SNK Heroines: Tournament of Dignity
by LordryuTJ
Summary: 32 ladies of SNK's past and present are brought together to do battle in a tournament that will showcase their mind, talent and body among many other things. Who will stand tall as SNK's supreme queen? (ROUND 3 HAS BEGUN) [Rated M for some mature themes]
1. The Arrangement

**Official Extended Summary  
** _On a day like no other, 32 ladies from the SNK syndicate are brought under one house to do part in battles that will test many factors to a potential 'Queen of Fighters': their mind, their motive, their talent, their sex appeal, but most of all – their absolute pride. This collection of battle-tested ladies are brought forth to a guild of people who want to see the very best, but in the end, only one can stand above all the rest..._

 **This story is based loosely off the SNK Gals Fighters games – the original _Gals Fighters_ from the Neo-Geo Pocket Color, and _SNK Heroines: Tag Team Frenzy_ , which by now has been out for a few days ( _I started writing this a couple days before its release date here in the US_ ). The story is completely of its own canon - timelines and deaths don't really mean much of anything due to the characters I'm including.  
**

 **I would also like to give a shout-out to jojoDO, whose _King of Fighters: Ultimate Grand Dream Kumite_ was a partial inspiration.**

* * *

August turned into September, and summer was slowly fading into autumn. The sun gave life to the scenery, the grass and the trees, in this European landscape. The air was balanced perfectly between the lingering chill and the widespread heat, and the ambiance was beautiful and lively despite barely any life standing out in the outdoors.

In the aftermath of what had been going on in the world as the _King of Fighters_ tournaments picked up in pace over the past couple decades, something new was starting to build steam, something that could change how the world sees these tournaments, these showcases of combat.

It wasn't just going to be combat and violence for the sake of it. There was going to be a deeper meaning this time...

* * *

 **France**

"Elisabeth?"

Elisabeth Blanctorche was staring down the half-empty cup of tea held in her hand. There was much on her shoulders with what she had planned for the future, but her attention was drifting off to elsewhere – many different thoughts bouncing around, with most being worrying. Ever since she started entering the _King of Fighters_ tournaments, the tide changed in her mind, for better in one way _and_ for worse for another.

The voice of another brought her eyes off of the drink and back onto the person sitting across from her at the little table set between them within the Blanctorche household.

Chizuru Kagura, a former KoF sponsor with a decade more experience in the tournament's past, was who she trusted the _most_ with helping her with arranging everything. She showed worry for the hesitation within the partner.

Elisabeth put the cup down calmly and spoke with a dry quietness. "I'm fine..."

The priestess knew there was much more brewing within Elisabeth's head. "I know it's... quite _difficult_ right now to be thinking everything through, but I don't think there's any chance to backtrack on everything – the invitations are likely being picked up as we speak."

Elisabeth shook her head as she ever so slightly leaned against the back of her seat, "It's not that – I've been meaning to put this together for a while... It's just..."

"It's about him, isn't it?"

Many thanks from Betty to Chizuru for not referring to him by name.

"It's been years," the priestess assured. "We've both had to go through some pain, but that was long ago... if I were you, I'd be thankful that things have changed for the better."

Elisabeth responded back after a light sigh, "And hopefully these things stay as they are for even longer."

Chizuru set down her tea after one more sip. "Now... as for the tournament..."

"We'll go ahead as planned," Elisabeth spoke with some regained certainty. The underlying fear on her mind still lingered, if barely at the moment. "We've both got everything riding on the success of this – as long as we avoid controversy, we'll break new ground."

Chizuru added, just to be sure of what they've got going. "And it could open up the gates for even further innovations in the tournament scene... is that right?"

"Exactly right, Miss Kagura." There was a slight sigh of relief from Elisabeth afterwards, as if she was about ready to get a temporary escape from the burden on her shoulders with her planned tournament on the horizon.

* * *

 **Not quite a lot for the first chapter, but it's enough to start with, and to get viewers thinking about who could show up for this "Tournament of Dignity", as the title kinda gives away.**

 **The next couple chapters (at most two because my workload gets spots of progress sometimes) will be devoted to seeing the arrival of these ladies set on competing, with many notable and obvious fan-favorites, as well as some SNK ladies you probably never knew about until now!**


	2. A Gathering, Part One

**Before we get into the chapter, I wanna announce that I had just recently bought SNK Heroines: Tag Team Frenzy. My thoughts head-on? It's not bad. Yeah, the roster is basically KOFXIV but without the guys / half the women + Shermie and a gender-bent Terry, but the gameplay is kinda interesting for an SNK tag fighter.**

 **That's pretty much all I got to say for now. Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

"Unnff...! So hot out there..."

Athena Asamiya was disadvantaged under the sweltering heat – even with the window near her seat in the limo half-opened, the wind being blown in her direction akin to an electric fan was still getting somewhat overpowered by the 90-nearing-100 degree heat.

An unfortunate added bonus was the attire she decided to wear on her way to the rendezvous here in France – a red top and skirt, white undershirt and belt sash, and darkly-purple short shorts, a bit of a classic attire from some years ago when her career as an idol began to took off alongside her consistent attendance in the _King of Fighters_ tournaments.

In short, she grew up, and her attire clung onto her with even more tightness than when she first started wearing it. It wasn't a bother for her if the clothes began to show off a little more of her body, what with her skirt looking a bit shorter in comparison to her slowly ever-growing self – but on a hot day like this? Sweat City guaranteed...

The chauffeur behind the wheel announced, "We've arrived, Ms. Asamiya."

Athena smiled. "Thanks." The limo door by her side swung open as she made her exit.

Upon stepping out, her first glance was from up high and all the way down to ground level at the monumental mansion that was just a few feet from where she stood. Even what was behind her was just beautiful, with sleek green hills in the distance. It almost made up for the particularly strong heat – _almost_.

This was something she was very much interested in ever since she first received, and accepted, the invitation – the very same invitation, enveloped and held in her hand. No going back now.

Knocking on the front doors of the mansion, was soon greeted with the doors opening and an elderly man in a standard butler suit greeting her with a warm smile. "Welcome," he greeted.

Athena was a little hesitant with the polite-looking butler. "Uh... hello there, sir."

The butler said, "Miss Blanctorche will be with you once the rest of the participants arrive. Please wait patiently."

"Alright – thanks, sir..." She never knew Elisabeth on a personal level, but she had crossed paths with her a couple of times in the past during previous _King of Fighters_ tournaments, and had gotten a taste of the power that she carried. To know that the noblewoman went from a participant to a host of a tournament of her own, Athena was expecting a particularly high-class affair with no funny business... at least, as far as she knows.

For a good minute of calm silence, Athena hung around the foyer of the Blanctorche manor, taking notice of the moderate banquet spread out at the sides for anyone willing to grab a bite prior to the battles that will eventually ensue. Fruits, meats, candies and various drinks galore, and it all looked quite delectable for the most part. The idol couldn't help but partake in a little bit to pass the time – luckily, it wasn't going to be long before another arrival came around?

" _Athena?_ "

Athena glanced towards the front doors right before they closed shut, as she quickly took notice to the girl who called to her attention. From first glance, the young blonde that sprinted up to her didn't look like the most recognizable person on the block, but the brown/maroon colors across her attire was a good tell that it was someone that Athena recalled having partnered up with some time ago. "Malin?"

The purple-haired idol was quickly enveloped into a hug from her former 'High School Girls Team' teammate. "Holy crap, it's been so long!" Malin squealed over this interesting reunion.

Athena awkwardly chuckled as she slowly eked away from the embrace. "It hasn't been _that_ long... I see time's been nice on you."

Although Malin's attire was a somewhat similar case to Athena's, looking a bit small and tight on her, it looked like she could still make it work. "I could say the same to you; I'm surprised there weren't any fanboys following you the whole way here, they would've been hungry for a piece of you."

Athena stretched her leg back with a hand along her ankle. "It's kind of a breath of fresh air, actually. Happen to see anyone come around on the way here?"

Malin answered with what she knew, "Saw a couple other limos going around. The host lady's been going the extra mile bringing everyone here. Might be more coming in right about..." The doors behind creaked open again. "...now."

Well, it wasn't just one lady coming in, it was _two_ ; two from a classic trio of _King of Fighters_ ' past, in fact – the Kyokugenryu cutie, Yuri Sakazaki, and the KoF's original tit ninja, Mai Shiranui. For whatever reason, Yuri was riding piggy-back atop Mai on the way through the doors of the mansion, but she soon hopped off seconds later and waved. "Hey Athena!"

Athena waved back a bit, flattered with the recognition thus far, _right_ before finding herself very deep within Mai's bosom as the sparsely-clothed kunoichi brought her in for the pop idol's second ( _and likely not the last_ ) hug of the day. "How's Japan's finest magical sweetheart doing today?" Mai asked during the embrace.

Athena turned her head so that her mouth wasn't muffled out by Mai's breasts. "Oof... pretty good so far..." It wasn't long before she noticed there was a bit of a glaring absence outside of the two Women Fighters Team competitors that she had met with. "Is King not coming with you?"

"In a bit," Yuri answered. "She was talking with Ryo last we checked – if we're gonna have to be away from our boy-toys for the next couple days, we gotta at least be happy for the opportunity." She then glanced over to Malin, whose demeanor shifted towards unhappiness once Yuri came into the scene. "And from the looks of things, _you_ should be happy, too."

"I was. Then I realized I have to deal with you." Malin wasn't having any of it with Yuri – her rivalry with the Kyokugenryu dojo still remained after all these

Athena calmly advised the Kyokugenryu girl while she stepped away from Mai's sweet embrace, "Just let her be, Yuri; she's not really worth messing with right now."

Malin looked slightly offended. "Athena—"

But Athena halted the complaints from the High School Girls teammate before any fully came out. "Just save it for when the tournament starts, okay?"

Malin grumpily groaned in response, and quietly stepped off to the side to enjoy a bit of the banquet offered to the competitors. The front doors were heard opening again, meaning the entry of another competitor in the upcoming ladies-only tournament.

"So, this is where the tournament is taking place?"

There wasn't a lot to assume from the next competitor to arrive; with brownish-red hair, a yellow and white blouse and a green skirt with a red trim, it seemed as though she had just gotten off school and went straight for France – she also brought a suitcase along with her, presumably filled with supplies she may need.

"Oh, hello there," Athena greeted, "Miss... uhhh..."

"Kisarah. Kisarah Westfield," she answered. With a family originating from England, Kisarah spent her school days in Japan as an exchange student, and she was a rather popular student at that.

Yuri was a bit puzzled with the presence of the relative unknown in Kisarah. "You're a fighter?"

The England-born student responded. "I dabble. Been trying to impress a guy, it's a bit of a story, but I'm willing to impress."

"Well, we all have to start somewhere," said Athena, as she approached and politely brought Kisarah in for a handshake.

Kisarah giggled lightly. "The pleasure's all mine—"

The doors abruptly swung open right into Kisarah's back with no warning, making her stumble forwards into Athena – the two stumbled and fell to the ground together in a set of bodies getting knocked off balance in the arrival of the next competitor.

"Step aside, bitches – this cat's back on the prowl!" Donning her cleavage-presenting leather jacket and chaps that didn't leave a lot to the imagination, the cocky voice couldn't have come from anyone other than the silver-haired biker chick, Angel.

Already a bit rattled from the sudden intrusion of the newly-arrived former NESTS assassin, Kisarah said, "Rude much?"

Helping Kisarah and Athena up alongside Mai, Yuri was prompted to ask, "You knew what you were getting into, right?"

Angel giggled with a clear enjoyment of seeing others around her suffer even the slightest at her hands. Her focus mainly remained on the red-headed schoolgirl out of the whole bunch. "This the kind of competition they're giving me? Think it's going to be easy cruising from here..."

Athena attempted to keep up a calm attitude as she talked against the sadistic dame. "We were just trying to mingle, you know."

Angel scoffed, cracking her knuckles. "Pfft. Bitch, you know I don't have time to shoot the shit – you want me to take you all on right now?"

However, an intervention from another source came to interrupted what Angel considered fun – in the form of a sword being suddenly pointed against her throat. " _Be nice, Angel._ "

The presence of another couple NESTS alumni were soon felt, as the high-rank officer Diana had just entered the fray alongside a more notable face, the ice girl Kula Diamond.

Angel wasn't pleased to see the two, not even bothering to look at them directly. "You two... lemme guess, you're both in for this, too?"

" _Kula_ is," Diana responded, withdrawing her sword away from Angel's neck and gesturing to the ice-bender, who was enjoying her usual lollipop. "I'm just her plus-one – and it may be nice to see you fail again."

Angel purred deeply, like an unamused kitten. "Maybe this time I'll prove you wrong."

Kula responded on behalf of her partner, "No, you won't." Calm and innocent, but cold and confident as well.

Angel simply rolled her eyes, "Whatever. I'll deal with you in the tournament." Then she walked off on her own merit, rudely shoving past Malin as she went past. As some of the other competitors quietly stayed off to the side to converse with each other, Malin ended up starting a bit of a discussion with the more benevolent almuni of NESTS. "That chick always been a bother with you girls?"

Diana answered. "For far too long."

Malin smiled. "Well, I'm an agent, too – if she and I happen to cross paths, I could take her down for you."

"Hehehe... you're sweet, but... I feel Kula will handle her well on her own."

Malin groaned with slight disappointment that she wasn't being taken up as a reasonable help. "Nothing ever comes my way, does it?" Then there was another knock on the door, and the young blonde girl took notice before most others. "Pfft. Well, if you don't need me to kick anyone's butt, I'll at least get the door for ya."

She left that old butler man at the door to keep standing by as she opened the tall and well-sculptured front doors... only to suddenly duck down, "Oh shi—!" as someone flung themselves across the sky and into the mansion.

Rolling into the center of the room and sparking much attention from most of the other ladies around, a with a red-scarf, blue-glove attire that screamed 'wannabe hero', and the first impression she gave certainly added to it. "Justice has arrived in the form of May Lee Jinju!"

Fanfare was fairly minimal – if anything, the other ladies hanging around just seemed caught off-guard by the bombastic arrival of the young Korean prospect.

At least Kula was intrigued. "Hmhmhm... I like her..."

Sitting on the ground after closely evading that dynamic entry, Malin had to ask, "What's _her_ deal?"

"She's quite the joyful spirit, isn't she?"

Compared to May Lee's arrival, the emergence of a fellow Team Korea lady was very much as normal and anti-climactic in comparison – even if the sultry strut of the woman named Luong was still enough to catch some eyes on her shapely legs. "Perhaps a bit _too_ joyful for the liking..."

Malin assumed, "So you're with her?"

"She needs someone to anchor her down – she's a bit too forward for her own good… but it's still cute to see her go on her own path..."

Just the serene and seductive tone maintained in the Vietnamese beauty's voice was enough to almost make Malin quiver under a lingering unsettledness – almost as if she was too much of a woman for her to handle.

"I'm... just gonna be over here," Malin awkwardly proclaimed after a brief hesitation, as she began to step away. Probably for the best – in a tournament where they were in the same brackets, it would likely be no contest on who could prove superior of the two.

But never mind that, as another competitor began to make her way into the building. Kula quickly took notice to the girl with ribbons in her twin-tailed hair and separated her mouth from the lollipop long enough to say a couple things. "Hello there. I'm Kula."

The girl accepted the outstretched glove of the ice girl for a little handshake. "Hotaru. I guess you're here to compete, too?"

Kula nodded. "Mmm-hmm. You seem nice... I'd hate to kill you."

Hotaru was a _little_ nervous with the ice-shaper's company – she wasn't one for the thrill of fighting, but more of just wanting to fulfill what was at the end of her path of discovery. "Uh... well... good luck to you, too?"

Further towards the back-end of the foyer, where most of the competitors hung around, Athena noticed the spiritual martial-artist from afar while she still conversed with some of the other KoF vets alongside her. " _The girl from the Maximum Mayhem tournament is here, too?_ " she thought. " _Between her, Kisarah, and some of the other girls, the competition is quite broad this time around._ "

Athena's optimism took a slightly puzzled turn, however, as an unfamiliar face burst through the doors, tripped and face-planted within the first second of her arrival. " _Perhaps a bit_ _TOO broad..._ "

The eleventh arrival may not have been the only instance of a competitor arriving in their own unique way so far, but it was enough for Athena to worry about as she approached the pink-haired girl in the somewhat cartoonish design with a helping hand. "Are you okay?"

The pinkette with a slight nosebleed from the face-plant rose to her knees in a daze, at first looking at the outstretched hand of Athena, and then looking up to her face. It was then what she realized she was dealing with, and she sprung back defensively, with a snarl like a feral cat. "Asamiya! At last, we meet!"

A million things immediately ran through Athena's mind as she attempted to grasp with what the hell that girl was talking about. If this was meant to be a fated encounter, it certainly fell on blind eyes for Athena. "How do you know my—do... do I even _know_ you?"

"Finally, the dream match everyone is looking forward to has come! Athena's 'Psycho powers', or Mignon's magic!" The pink-maned oddball wound up an arm like a windmill as she suddenly took a battle

Mai stepped in on Athena's side to prevent a hilarious disaster. "You must be delusional, honey. The tournament hasn't even started yet and you want to pick a fight _now?_ How desperate must you be for attention?"

Yuri joined the two. "Plus... if you think we're supposed to take you seriously; have you even looked at yourself before you came all the way out here?"

Mignon crossed her arms, holding enough of her own to avoid having a tantrum within _her first few minutes of being here_. "Hmph! The nerve of some people to doubt a Beart's power. Mignon will return in just a moment!" For some reason, she decided to just start walking back towards the door...

...but she wound up smacking her face again, not against the closed door, but rather into a much more cushiony surface – the heavy-loaded bosom of the next competitor. Her face was pretty much buried in the tits of another for an uncomfortably long time before she stumbled back and onto the ground, and what she saw look down on her was a bit of a scary sight for her.

The leather-bound femme fatale who entered had stared down with clear unamusement of the pink-haired witch's presence. "Sometimes it seems like I can't get away from you." Lien Neville had a bit of a past with Mignon, even if barely, due to the two being in the same tournament. At one point, they crossed paths, and from gathering the first impressions of the two in this scenario, it was clear who was the winner of that bout.

Lien's cold red eyes glaring down surprisingly silenced for a moment, as she just simply backed off before anything could take a turn for the worst.

No one else said a word as Lien took this brief time in the spotlight to warn the competition. "That goes for the rest of you; I'm not here to have fun. I'm here to spill blood."

The majority were a bit unsettled with the British assassin's short but effective warning – a couple others, like May Lee, looked simply angered by the feeling of evil stepping into the fray. Some like Luong, however, looked _fascinated_. Although she didn't have much of a smile to give the fellow femme fatale, Lien was a bit intrigued to find someone so emotionally unmoved. "Find something you like?"

"The world could use more ladies like us," said Luong. "Too many pretty girls with over-confidence around here."

It was _then_ that Lien bothered with a smile. If there was to be a fight between the two eventually when the tournament started, it would be an interesting encounter. "Something I can agree on. _I like that._ "

The doors opened for the umpteenth time, and Lien turned her head. The sight of a blue-haired fighter in a green military jumpsuit with a cold glare ahead caught her sight. Leona Heidern seemed ready to fight through whoever to accomplish the task at hand.

Lien spoke out, "I suppose you would like to step up for your peers?"

Leona simply responded, "I'm a woman on a mission. Stay out of my way, or try your luck."

"Oh, please – I wouldn't want to waste my energy before the tournament starts... but I hear _she_ would." Without warning, Lien grabbed Mignon by the arm and threw her in between the two serious ladies, much to the witch's unwillingness.

Immediately frozen with fear upon getting up close and personal with the Ikari agent, Mignon spoke with a shaky undertone in her words. "Y-you seem scary – I don't want to have to fight you unless I have to."

"It's okay, miss; we're just on a mission." Another person arrived at Leona's side – Fiolina Germi ( _simply Fio for short_ ), a relative associate to the Ikari team, seemed to have been enlisted to accompany Leona for the tournament. "Just run along now."

Mignon complied and scampered off as the military duo were granted allowance to pass by Lien and join the rest of the competitors in the middle of the foyer.

From the point of view of some of the more experienced _King of Fighters_ ladies, Athena, Yuri and Mai were stunned by the wide spread of interesting ladies pouring into the scene.

"So, Athena, tell me," Yuri asked, "is the competition looking a bit... _crazier_ than usual?

"I'm liking it," Mai added. "Sometimes it makes things more interesting."

Athena looked at the invitation that she kept to herself, hoping for the best. "Hopefully, the journey is well worth it."

Fourteen competitors have come around so far, and 32 are expected overall – the more the merrier, they say...

* * *

 **To recap, we got 14 introduced for the tournament: Athena, Mai, Yuri, Angel, Kula, May Lee, Luong and Leona representing the mainline KOF games, Hotaru representing _Garou_ , Lien and Mignon representing _Maximum Impact_ , Fio repping _Metal Slug_ and Kisarah Westfield, the only female to have appeared in _Aggressors of Dark Kombat_.**

 **I was going to do 16 competitors for this chapter, and 16 for the next, but then I realized the whole intertwining scene of Mignon to Lien to the Ikari / Metal Slug girls was a bit too interesting to follow up on before ending the chapter.**

 **If you feel your favorite might not make it, there's still the next chapter to look forward to – hope you enjoyed this chapter, and stay tuned!**


	3. A Gathering, Part Two

**Alright, first things first, I want to mention some things going on in life right now – I'm probably gonna be somewhat less active than I usually am with these stories next month, firstly because I just recently had my birthday (September 22) and spent that day celebrating and eating out for dinner and stuff like that. Secondly, I got a game pre-ordered and it's coming out in early October, so I'll likely be playing that a lot in the month. If there's slower updates in the next month or two, that's why.**

 **Just a heads up.**

* * *

There were a few minutes between the last of the first 14 arrivals and who would come around next, a little bit of downtime before everything began to pick back up. Even then, the collection of women set on competing in this tournament are quite colorful, both in design and in personality – from the cute bruisers, to the serious competition, to the rest that couldn't be properly categorized. The set looked fairly stacked as it was, despite a few omissions at the moment, but there were 18 hopefuls left to discover.

For the most part, the talented fighters who showed up were on the more youthful side, with people like Kula, Athena and Mignon as clear examples, but the next few to arrive were somewhat older and, for the most part, more grizzled in competition. The first two were clear examples...

"One hell of a home."

"Her family has a lot of lineage – a lot of wealth came to this place..."

Blue Mary and Vanessa – two operatives of different paths but some common objectives to snuff out trouble if there was any nearby. Today, however, they were in for the spirit of the competition, and for a little bit of something to spice up life in some uneventful times.

Making their way through the doors, they were greeted with the sight of several more ladies around the grand hall, whether mingling, enjoying the banquet or simply preparing for the battles to come, it looked quite the busy prelude to a potentially more raucous tournament.

Vanessa noted, "A lot of young blood I'm seeing around the place."

Mary asked for assurance, lest the hypothetical come into play. "If we happen to get put against each other, may the best woman win, right?"

Vanessa responded. "Might as well." They then bumped fists, and split off towards different sides of the hall. Naturally, went for the drinks while did some stretching.

Mai took notice to the blonde detective that had just arrived. "So many favorites coming in, so little time to hang around before... well, you know."

"There's always time for a little bit of mingling," said Yuri. "What's wrong? A little homesick?"

It was clear of what Mai was truly worried about. "I'm hoping Andy's handling things on his own..."

Yuri gave the sex-symbol kunoichi a bit of a pat on the back. "It'll be fine – it's not like you're gonna be gone for any more than this week." However, the assurance came and went as someone else could be heard coming through the doors, and Yuri's eyes twinkled with happiness. "Whoa! Kiiiiing!"

Yes, it may have taken some time, but the classic Women Fighters Team was finally all back under one roof; King was donning her usual formal fighter's attire, with her jacket draped over her shoulder, and her eyes focused straight-on towards the karate girl as she was glomped in a surprisingly strong hug for such a lightweight fighter.

Yuri cheered, "You finally made it!" She showed quite some optimism towards the bartender – it was almost akin to a certain another one who fought under the Kyokugenryu style.

"I didn't miss anything, didn't I?" King asked – she expected to be at least a fairly late arrival in the bunch, tying up loose ends that would've been left alone if she went directly to ground-zero of this gathering from the get go.

As the teammates enjoyed the reunion, a couple more women passed by with little fanfare – one with a singular ribbon headband in her black hair, and another with a smooth but unique blueish-purple hair color. As a result of the quite casual get-up they both wore in order to blend in with this world better, it was hard at first to notice these heroes from ' _another world_ '.

Nakoruru, the younger, and most out of her timeline, of the two noticed the cuddling going on between Yuri and King. "It's nice to see people get together like this sometimes..."

Love Heart, the taller lady, surveyed the assortment of ladies ahead. "I have a feeling we would've been better off with our usual costumes on – it's starting to look like more of a Halloween party than usual."

"There's no need to worry about that – although I must admit, I _do_ prefer my traditional garb..."

The two fighters who were clearly away from their own worlds had proceeded towards a spot they could consider suitable for unwinding at – meanwhile, back with the two Women Fighters teammates that were busy with the reunion at the moment...

"Hey, uh, King?" Yuri let go of her embrace on King and pointed off to something behind the French bartender. "Check it out..."

The Kyokugen fighter noticed first the next arrival, one Alice Garnet Nakata – with her 'Fatal Fury' hat, that low hanging blouse that showed off a lot of her red brad, and a pair of shorts that were so short that they could barely be seen underneath the bottom end of the blouse, especially with that big red belt wrapped around her waist. It wasn't like she was begging for attention with the attire, considering she was the most recent fighter in the _King of Fighters_ tournaments to join the ever-evolving Women Fighters team.

"Well-well – welcome aboard, Alice," Mai greeted the blonde rookie. "Suppose you're here for your fighting fix?"

"I heard some of the big vets were coming around for this babe brawl," said Alice with an optimistic smile. "Nice to see all the competition hanging around – I could use the extra experience."

"Here's hoping you can handle it," King expected some great things from her (and Mai's) one-off partner, especially in a tournament that featured some oddities like Mignon and potentially dangerous encounters with someone of the likes of Lien, Leona or Angel.

Meanwhile, another competitor, the twenty-first so far, entered the mansion. Sporting a blue and white jacket over a simple black spandex jumpsuit, Tsugumi Sendo was a fairly unknown talent who was an exchange student in Southtown. As for her fighting style specialty – shoot wrestling combat.

She wasn't the only one who showed her face at this point of time – a girl with a more interesting look to her, with a theme of blue and white, Ai resided in, and she had quoted, 'the world of Neo-Geo', and was an agent of the Federation Government. You wouldn't really get that vibe from the fact that her eyes were practically glued to her technologically-obsolete Neo-Geo Pocket. At least she had decent taste for the relative retros.

Tsugumi noticed the intriguing-looking girl beside her. "Uh, you think they're going to be okay with you playing games around everyone?" There wasn't anything said about allowing or refusing portable game systems on the invitation, so nothing was for sure.

Ai shrugged as she walked ahead. "I hope so – this little box of pixel happiness is one of my favorites!" Aaand then she suddenly smacked into something and tumbled over... nothing? She quite legitimately stumbled over what could be assumed as air, but to her, it felt like she experienced a real-life glitch.

The priorities seemed somewhat odd in Ai's mind, as she paid no mind to the fact that she practically bumped into nothing – her handheld, on the other hand, took a bit of a tumble to the ground, and she quickly scrambled to pick it up...

...except it looked like the Neo-Geo handheld had just _floated_ up into the air, and met the happy-go-lucky agent at eye level. Ai grew simultaneously nervous and confused. "Uhhh..." She reached out to it... and then she suddenly experienced what felt like someone bopping her square in the face with a hard palm across the nose, with enough force to knock her on her butt.

Although most of the women who stood by paid little attention, some definitely noticed what was going on right now.

About 10 paces off to the side, Fio looked on with utter confusion. "...Did that girl just get punched by a ghost?"

Leona answered. "Could be a ghost – could just someone with the right technology."

Lien smirked. "Only one way to find out..." Out of the 22 who currently resided in this mansion, there was bound to be one who at least had a grasp of what might be going on over there.

The unseen anomaly looked to be juggling the Neo-Geo Pocket in one 'hand' now as Lien approached it from behind and grabbed at it with her right hand – the gauntlet on her wrist immediately buzzed with electricity that matched the green gems on her wrist, and the ghostly individual began to gain visibility as they were run through with the charge of electricity that shut down the cloak that hid them.

What sat alongside the dropped handheld ( _which Ai quickly scooped up while hoping it wasn't fried alongside the snatcher_ ) was an odd young girl on her knees, wearing a black and orange attire that made her loosely resemble a human honeybee, and a hairdo to match.

Lien crossed her arms and stared down with contempt. "Should've known you would come around, Nagase." Much like Mignon, Lien had dealt with the younger assassin in the one of the _Maximum Impact_ tournaments – for some reason, Lien had a tendency to come across people with some quite eccentric design.

Nagase's knees began to give out from the afterflow of electricity that showered her some seconds before, and she just simply rolled over onto her back and looked back up at her aggressor. "Fuck off, Lien."

Malin walked up next to Lien, more than a little confused. "Uhh... so how long has that girl been sitting around, all invisible and shit?"

Nagase retorted, "Long enough to know that the wannabe witch over there got a face full of air-bags."

Mignon was naturally offended in more ways than one, and thwomped with a big ol' boot down on the side of her head, nearly knocking the glasses off her head. Talk about instant retribution.

As Mignon retracted her foot away from the downed competitor's head, Kisarah stepped in to try and separate the commotion that was growing."I don't want to have to play peace-maker here, but you girls may want to have to save it for the tournament."

Nagase crawled backwards and towards the edge of the doorway behind her to try and recover her strength, all while cursing Lien's name under her breath. "Fuckin' bimbo..." She turned her head and saw Kula sitting close to her right, giggling. Nagase looked relatively offended, but she dismissed the laughter quickly. "Yeah yeah, keep laughing, Miss Freeze, I know I look like a dipshit right now."

Diana, standing just behind Kula, pointed ahead with her thin sword and advised, "To your left, sweetie."

Nagase turned her head towards the opposite way, and she went from looking like 'fuck right now' to 'fuck _everything_ ' when she took notice to the next person to arrive, and what looked to be the latest in the impromptu 'Most Ridiculous Looking Fighter' contest as an oddity with a dress that was a mess of green, pink and yellow and a big blonde mess of hair that looked like she got out of bed and didn't bother with any more than the hair on the front of her face.

The electrically charged Sylvie Paula Paula looked around the mansion while clinging about on the doors like they were the most fascinating part of the whole building. She didn't even bother to notice Nagase to the side for about ten seconds – when she _did_ , she sprung right over with smile that was equal parts goofy and downright _creepy_. "Bi-bi-bi! You here for the party, too?"

Nagase blinked with silent awe. "Just... don't look at me. You _and_ your extra eyes."

Thankfully, didn't object and just went off on her merry way around the mansion. However, the eccentric NESTS 'reject' caught the eye of another...

A student by the name of Arina Makihara had shown up – she just simply wanted to find a 'wonderful boyfriend', and was looking towards opportunities like this to gain recognition and hopefully find that 'Mr. Right'. Her look compared to others wasn't too out of the ordinary, mainly composed of a red/white open jacket and sneakers with a sleeveless blue jumpsuit underneath, but the most notable thing about her was the pair of bunny-like ears hanging down the back of her head – she wasn't exactly human, but she could be recognized as such since that was the only inhuman-looking part of her whole look, and even then, it almost looked like an extra accessory alongside the goggles worn across her forehead.

Naturally, those bunny ears attracted the eccentric Sylvie. "Oooh!" Then she clung onto them with both arms and ended up dragging down to the ground with a bit of a trip and fall.

The mostly-human girl struggled against the electromagnetic sideshow. "Hey! Get off me, you weirdo!"

Elsewhere in the room, Blue Mary and Vanessa looked on from a distance.

"Mary?"

"Yeah?"

Vanessa crossed her arms. "There's a whole lot more freaks out and bout – and you don't seem to be bothered by it."

Mary shrugged, lightly itching the back of her head. "Yeah, I've pretty much seen it all by this point."

Almost upon command, another person wanting in on the action was on the way in... flanked by an ugly bunch of red-banded roughnecks in blue-and-white striped shirts.

From there, Mary briefly added, "...Almost."

The leading lady, enticingly reclined on a small bed being carried by the out-of-place men, was brought down at center stage in this brief but particularly extravagant entrance – recognizable from the dark purple dress and the skull-and-bones laced onto it, yet another competitor straight from the long and prestigious cast of former _King of Fighters_ tournament entries had come to collect the attention of just about everyone else in the room.

"Thank you, my Knights," said the beautiful pirate, Bonne Jenet. "I'll take it from here."

"Good luck, boss!" The nameless representatives of the Lillien Knights grumbled out of sight.

Out of the Women Fighters teammates who stood by and looked on, Mai was the most amused with Jenet's arrival. "Even brought your own bed, huh? Looks like it'll fit you and your ego nicely."

Jenet giggled under a brief bit of breath. "Jealous?"

Mai smiled with a hint of passive-aggression. "Not at all."

Meanwhile, as the Lillien Knights piled through the open doors in their exit, there was another young lady scooching by.

There wasn't much to say about her besides that she looked like a female version of Kyo Kusanagi from during his high-school days, when the _King of Fighters_ tournament started becoming a yearly event. Except she wasn't. She was just an avid cosplayer named Kyoko, who was very much a fan of the flame-bringer and unfortunately lacked any of the same power. With a similar look to Kyo but a lack of flames to carry with her, she was closer to a female version of Shingo, if anything... except there was a possibility that even Shingo could've been considered superior to the cosplayer.

Another thing to mention was how much she was trying to hide her excitement once she saw the growing pack of infinitely more experienced ladies in the ring, covering her mouth mostly as her knees began to rattle. "Ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmy _goooosh_..."

Another arrival had shown up around the same time, another one of the unknown generation – Moe Habana, a young Asian-American prospect with a pink heart outlined across the front of her lime-green top, and a sweater tied and wrapped around her waist.

Moe noticed the overwhelmed cosplayer from a first glance. "Uh, are you okay?

Kyoko shook with much anticipation. "I dunno – there's a lot to take in right now. There's so many cool people here!"

Moe glanced around the get-up of Kyoko before speaking up again. "...Nice cosplay, by the way. Big fan?"

"Yeah. _I want his babies._ "

 _...Yeeeaah_ , you don't really expect to hear something like that so casually at a time like this, especially about someone you know... although considering the cosplay and the slightly stalker-esque tone to that sentence alone, not quite as surprising as it was a bit creepy.

Moe was willing to try and get that little moment out of her brain by the end of the day. "I'm... just gonna... go straight ahead and— _watch out!_ " She glanced back out the still-open doors for a split-second and saw something that made her have to yank cosplayer Kyoko out of the way...

... _right_ as someone _suddenly_ sped in on a motorcycle past them, and screeched to a halt right in the middle of the mansion. With a pattern of deep red and black that was shared with the rider's leather apparel and helmet, it really stood out in opposition to the more muted colors across the main hall of the residence, and many eyes were on the newest arrival as she removed her helmet.

The dark-horse branch of the Kusanagi family tree, Aoi Kusanagi, was on the scene, and she surveyed the sizable line of competitors in the nearly-complete roster. " _Quite the cast we've got here,_ " she thought. " _This is gonna be good_."

Not a lot of reactions to go around, however. Malin was among the more clueless bunch, leaning over to whisper to Athena, "Uhhh, so I'm no seasoned fighter or whatever – is she supposed to be an important kind of girl in these tournaments? Seriously, I have _no_ idea who the hell she is."

"I know she's related to Kyo," Athena answered. "She hasn't been around for much in terms of the _KoF_ tournaments."

Something within Yuri made her realize and recall a little bit of Aoi's inclusion in some past memories. "Oh yeah – she was around a little during that whole Orochi biz. Think she's Kyo's cousin or somethin'?"

Naturally, 'Cosplayer' Kyoko was lured in by the quote-unquote 'intel' collected, pushing past Mai as she got right in Yuri's face. " _DidyousayshewasKyo'scousin?_ " Not like she just avoided getting run down by a motorcycle less than a minute ago...

The Kyokugenryu student got _really_ uncomfortable, _really_ fast. "Uhhhh..."

Then Kyoko impatiently pushed past the Women Fighters Team. "Doesn't matter—MOVE~!" The fanatic made a very short but quick sprint at the biker still seated on the sleek motorcycle...

...She barely made it within a few inches from contact with Aoi before getting clotheslined out of her shoes by a simple outstretched arm and splatting onto the ground behind the Kusanagi relative, rendered completely unconscious. To note, the first knockout of the tournament, and it hadn't even started yet!

" _Nice reflexes, Miss Kusanagi..._ " Aoi somewhat recognized the voice, but did not see a body that accompanied it. She

Then suddenly, something within her spirit burned with an irritating pain as she felt some grim energy creeping into the mansion underneath everyone and everything. She grimaced with pain soon enough as that energy brought something fierce into her head, and she began to get off her ride. "Dammit... _not again_..."

Aoi was the only one who heard that voice at first, but everyone noticed what was going on with her. Some people, namely Yuri, Moe and Kisarah around the room went to Aoi's as she nearly fell off the motorbike, and helped her stay on her feet.

"You okay?" Moe asked.

Yuri assured, "Don't worry, we got ya..."

A light, chilling wind blew past the whole room, and Athena's eyes loomed upwards towards the lights in the ceiling. "Oh no... I know this energy..."

May Lee jumped into the line of sight of the Psycho Soldier, already ready to kick ass. "Come out and face justice, you demons?"

" _Demons? Oh, aren't you cute..._ " That seductive but downright sinister voice sounded off again, and then May Lee suddenly felt something akin to someone from behind grabbing her by the shoulder, prompting her to turn around while maintaining her fighting stance.

Elsewhere in the main hall, Leona collapsed into a kneeling position as she felt the same pain that Aoi began to endure.

"Shit! Leona!" Fio immediately went to tend to her partner.

" _Don't worry about her – she's used to the pain..._ " Another disembodied voice, with the same undertones of evil intentions as the other, snuck across the militant representation.

The presence of evil amongst the living had also begun to affect Nakoruru, threatening to separate the link between her mind and the spirit of mother nature. "Nnngh... these spirits... are none like I'd imagine in this world..."

" _Are you really that surprised? We wouldn't miss this for the world..._ "

" _The damned shall never truly die – but you, you ALL may make great sacrifices one day..._ "

Two semi-transparent spirits of red began to creep into the physical realm – and they made their way around where Aoi stood with some others, in the center of the main hall. Once they settled into their spots around the Kusanagi relative while she continued to feel the lingering feeling of something foul in the world, their forms as red silhouettes began to fade out into something more recognizable.

It was then we had a glimpse of these spirits' true incarnations...

It was then, that the Hakkesshu made its presence known... Vice and Mature were out to make a statement, in a collective effort for who they worshipped.

"But for now... care to enlighten us on your power?" The charmingly ruthless Mature laid down the challenge in a calm offering.

Vice provided the contrast with her over-eagerness to maim if necessary. "We're oh-so willing to make you all _scream_ in agony!"

Aoi began to regain her composure as she recognized the two sadists around her. "I should've known. You two just never stay in the afterlife, do you?"

Someone giggled behind her. " _Don't you mean us three?_ " Then Aoi felt a sensation of being embraced from behind, although nothing was shown to be there. At least, not yet.

Something new emerged into reality, somewhat quick in emerging from whatever spiritual realm there may be compared to Vice and Mature, and it was even quicker to recognize the eye-hiding hairdo of the dancing Frenchwoman.

"It's so nice to see you again, Aoi," Shermie greeted as she continued to hug the Kusanagi rebel.

Aoi, on the other hand, wasn't the most thrilled. After all, it was thanks to Shermie that she was blessed / cursed with the Orochi pact, and the presence of her, along with the other ladies of Hakkesshu, was starting to get to her even more than before.

"Shermie, get off of her – this isn't the time to be reuniting with friends." Mature seemed particularly displeased with Shermie's inclusion, however, if the professionally frustrated tone of hers said anything.

Shermie complied, and let go of Aoi, who looked a bit annoyed with the clear implication of a trio's partnership between the three supposedly-deceased ladies. "So she's joining with you two for this little excursion, huh?"

"She's just a tag-along," Vice explained. "Wanted to see the real world again. I think it's annoying."

Now casually seated on Aoi's motorcycle, Shermie giggled and then responded. "I'm sure you both enjoy this as much as I do – don't try to hide it."

"We don't need to try hiding anything, this is simply a matter of business," Mature retorted. Her eyes then glanced across the rest of the roster that stood near the loyal ladies of Hakkesshu. "As for the rest of you – shall we cut the bullshit and see who here is willing to face their fears?" Her hand glew with the purple flames of Orochi's personal hellscape, as it seemed like she would rather begin burning through the competition than go through a tournament to take claim of true victory.

" _That's enough out of you..._ " Someone else clearly stood in opposition, shining a light against the sinful flames.

That someone else was the lady of the hour, brandishing her riding crop and carrying within her a bright soul that seemed ready to maintain the tournament, even when forces of evil tried to destroy it before it began. Standing at the top of the staircase that laid at the back-end of the foyer, Elisabeth kept her professional composure as she glanced down at the collection of ladies willing to fight for their right to be considered among the best in the world.

She seemed satisfied enough with what she had compiled for this tournament. "I see you've all made it on time. Now we can begin."

* * *

 **In case you're wondering exactly how I put together the cast list for the roster, it comes through 3 different categories of thought:**

 **1\. They just amuse me me in a way that writing them would be an interesting task – mainly, this goes towards the non-KOF girls like Kisarah and Arina, plus some KOF people like Malin and Sylvie ( _my apologies ahead of time to those who don't like her_ ) who barely or, in some cases, simply never had anything written about them in regards to fanfiction – on that note, there is almost _fuck-all_ for Shermie stories on FFN.**

 **2\. For the most part, it wouldn't feel like a true SNK Heroines roster without mainstays like Kula, Mai and Yuri, plus the fan-favorites like Shermie, B. Jenet and Nakoruru.**

 **3\. I just simply love some of these characters – like the Maximum Impact girls: Lien, Nagase and, surprisingly, Mignon. Yeah, Mignon's just a straight-up guilty pleasure for me, and kinda fun to write, too.**

 **So yeah, with that, we've got our entire roster of 32 set for the tournament – if you're a little disappointed a favorite of yours _didn't_ make it into this collection of female fighters ( _which may be likely given how many ladies there have been in SNK games over the years_ ), be thankful to know that there's still some more characters who will appear in later chapters, even if they're not fighting in the tournament itself. Stay tuned!**


	4. The Rules and Regulations

The cast of competitors in the much-anticipated ladies-only tournament had finally been completed moments ago; they had all been led out from the banquet table and gathered into a smaller room that seemed more formal for the meeting to come. There was a noticeable organization at the table within the cast of competing ladies, split evenly between the most significant fighting females of the past ( _the classic Women Fighters team, Athena, the loyal ladies of Hakkesshu, Leona, Kula, etc._ ) and the less recognizable, newer generation of competitors ( _Lien, Nagase, Aoi Kusanagi, and so on..._ ). Most were properly seated at the table, while others didn't bother with sitting and simply stood patiently.

The only significant thing of notice in the room besides the big plain table set in the center, was the wall of small screens in the back-end. There wasn't any use trying to figure them out now, but it seemed inevitable it would be a topic of discussion once the one in charge eventually started the meeting on her arrival.

The rambling among the invited wasn't too significant across the room, as most tended to themselves. Some others, however, discussed extensively with others near them, mostly those who were close to them, and even more resorted to taunting others across the room.

Sat alongside most of the Women Fighters teammates of past and present, Yuri took notice of Malin, the rival that the Kyokugenryu Dojo never really wanted, attempting to provoke a reaction out of the karate girl by shaking and slapping her own ass towards her. The Sakazaki sister didn't want to show how unpleased she was with the bandana-wearing blonde's attempts to steal what was basically her trademark taunt.

Athena was seated right nearby, allowing Yuri a choice whisper towards the psycho-powered idol. "Was she _this_ much of a brat when she was teamed with you?"

Athena responded, recalling only slightly her time leading the one-off High School Girls team. "Hard to say – I only teamed with her once, and it was so long ago, too..."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, 'tension' seemed like the key word to describe another situation simultaneously occurring, as Aoi kept her eyes locked towards a certain trio across the table, the ladies of Hakkesshu – she knew why her focus was all on them, but at the same time, she almost didn't know how to stop. The violet flames within her beckoned for something...

"Uh... are you okay?"

Aoi snapped out of what felt like a trance, darting her eyes to the right to meet with one of the more pure competitors, Hotaru.

"...I'm fine," Aoi assured.

"Doesn't seem like it," said Hotaru. "I can sense you're troubled. Your presence, it feels like it's... _burning._ "

Aoi wasn't quite the proudest to admit her past actions, as that rebellious past got her in the wrong direction of life. She looked back towards the other side of the table, and saw a noticeable difference in the scenery from when she last looked – smiling and casually waving at her general direction. Seemed friendly, but regardless, her presence continued to ache the flames within the Kusanagi relative. At this point, she (among some others) were starting to lose patience with waiting for things to start moving forward in this upcoming tournament.

Speak of the angel, and she shall appear.

The doors opened up again, welcoming Elisabeth again into the graces of the competitors. The hostess of the gathering had withdrawn her riding crop from her hands, hooked onto the side of her trousers. It wasn't necessary to put the crop to use, unless someone especially stood out as a bad egg during the proceedings of this week.

She started to speak to the people at full attention. "First things first... I want to express my appreciation to you all for accepting the invitations of which you were given over the past few days. In a world where the _King of Fighters_ tournament continues to come around, alongside many other affairs, it must be a bit difficult to keep up – but nonetheless, to everyone... welcome." The sole lady remaining of the Blanctorche family sat at the center of the large table that stretched across the 'meeting room crossed with a dining room' setting that settled.

Elisabeth spoke again, "I must admit, the persistence of everyone of those who have traveled so far for this is _quite_ impressive – but so you all know, it's going to take much more than persistence to get by in tournaments like this. Many of you have what it takes to stand out and take control..." She glanced to the veteran side of the bunch. "...but the rest still have a long way to go." She then turned to those representing the newer generation that was ready to make their mark. "I'm not afraid to admit my seasoned status, elder compared to most of you, but that's because I know more about what a lady needs when heading into the heart of battle, in tournaments like you've all likely experienced in; their motive to keep going when everything is stacked against them; their mentality and capability to find ideas within themselves to fight through the toughest situations; their ability to wow the world with fine talent and a unique look in order to stand out in the crowd; however, the most one can benefit from in their path to glory, is their _pride_. I know for sure most of you have a good understanding of what pride means to you – and some of you probably haven't figured it out yet."

After that last bit of a spiel, Elisabeth glanced across the room slowly, this time surveying the _whole_ span of competitors rather than a selective half between both sides of the table. "That's just a part of why I've arranged all of this," she said. "not in it for the mainstream coverage of an all, or for further fortunes than what I already have under the inheritance of my family bloodline... I just want to put you all to the test."

The competitors continued to keep their words within and stay quiet as Elisabeth continued… "There's a reason why it has whittled to only the 32 of you; I've wanted this tournament to be put together with proper knowledge and tradition on the mind. Forget what you expected from the tournaments you've been involved with in the past – there will be no teams to arrange, no handicaps to keep a handle on when faced with battle. All you will have is yourself and your power, one-on-one, against your opponent. As I've seen, there's already some bad blood brewing amongst some of you, and that might decide where you're placed to start with, and who your future opponents may be; brackets aren't a necessity for this tournament – the pairings in every match, from the first round, leading up to the end-game, will be of my decision."

The next subject to discuss in length regarding the tournament were the rules of these battles. "The battles you will find yourselves in will be akin to what you've expected – everything in your arsenal, even if it involves weapons or magic, will not be restricted – and battles will be decided under knockout or a surrender to the opposition. Outside forces are not allowed to be involved in the battle, due to the risk of it tampering with the tournament and potentially giving an unfair advantage – anyone who lets these forces assist them will be disqualified from the tournament and possibly punished further, depending on the size of the situation that comes out of it."

Elisabeth's eyes seemed to linger on some selective few as she spoke on the next ruling. "Lastly, and this is significantly important to the foundation of the tournament... in order to understand what I want in an honorable fighter, you must all abide by the commandment, ' _thou shalt not_ _ **kill**_ '... no exceptions."

The next subject of discussion came through as Elisabeth continued... "Now... as for your arrangements when it comes to the downtime before and during the tournament – there are many rooms to go around in this mansion, no room anymore different from the last, and you decide how you will spend your resting hours in between rounds." What came next from the hostess was not so much as an advisement as it seemed more like a warning. "However, I must be fully honest with you all – I know some of your are willing to do whatever to get an advantage, and I know that a significant few of you are _desperate_ to get your moment of triumph but if you think you'll be able to sneak by and disadvantage your opponents, think again."

What was not seen to the average eye was a pressed button on the underside of the desk, right where Elisabeth was seated, and the screens in the back of the room fulfilled their purpose – a projection of what seemed to be every room and hallway in the mansion came through, each one on a separate screen, making up about fifty different screens on that single wall.

An immediate explanation was necessary for this moment, and Elisabeth knew this. "Every corner of my home has been fitted with a camera to make sure that any underhanded tactic will be caught prior – any offenders will potentially face exile from the tournament. Don't worry, your privacy in _other_ circumstances won't be at risk – nothing will be broadcasted. This is a _private_ tourney, after all. I suggest you all understand the information given to you, regardless of your regular nature, so there will be no problems. Otherwise, the tournament will run as one will expect; the single-elimination setup will determine who's least worthy, while triumph will come to the last woman standing."

There was no doubt that some of the ladies around the room were willing to bring forth any questions about the rules, the tournament, any suspicions among other things, but any chance to do so had been pushed aside by what Elisabeth said to close the discussion. "If there are any objections or questions, please talk with me later – for now, I want to be sure you are all properly settled into your own arrangements. You are all dismissed for now – and please, do be careful."

* * *

"You did wonderfully out there."

"That isn't saying much – as a hostess to a meeting like that, I've been down this road before." Elisabeth was focused on the mirror of a small dressing room, making sure her attire stayed firmly adjusted between then and now. "My family taught me well, before everything changed."

"We _all_ had to start from somewhere." Chizuru stood at the half-opened door of the room, most visible to Elisabeth's eyes through the mirror that reflected. "Even _I_ had to deal with high hopes from the masses back in '96."

"Except this isn't necessarily a _King of Fighters_ tournament, now is it?" Elisabeth intended to dissipate any comparison between this tournament and the much more iconic counterpart that served as a semi-template.

Chizuru said, "Regardless of how prestigious a tournament like this could be, it's up to the hostess to help everyone – competitor or spectator – enjoy the spirit of the competition."

"I have a feeling it won't be that difficult – it's not like impending evil is breathing down my neck all the while..." The closest thing that could be considered on what Elisabeth said, were the ladies of Hakkesshu – but even then, with Orochi long gone, they're for the most part on even ground with the rest of the competition. "You came to me knowing that you may be needed in case someone, or something, tries to enact its discord against us. I feel this tournament will be much different."

"Hopefully you're right." Chizuru spoke with a slight frown. The priestess knew all too well the evils that crept through the world in the past almost-three decades.

Elisabeth adjusted the scarf resting along her chest before looking down from the mirror to adjust the sleeves of her shirt. "It's no matter to the both of us – the competitors are off to prepare for their impending battles, and all we have to worry about isn't the supernatural, but rather the natural conflicts that may spark between the competitors, behind our backs. You can trust me to get things done around here."

"I'll... be very thankful for that..." Chizuru's eyes lingered away from the hostess, as if something seemed to bother her from elsewhere, and she almost felt as if she wanted to head off on her own way for now.

Elisabeth certainly recognized something amiss on the priestess's side... "...It seems like now _you're_ the one starting to lose focus of the bigger picture, after you were so worried about me – is something of the matter?"

…

The noblewoman noticed the lack of a received answer, as she started to look up to the mirror. "...Miss Kagura?"

" _Afraid not..._ "

Elisabeth suddenly felt as if an arrow of suppressed memories attempted to pierce her through the back as soon as she recognized the completely different voice that answered back. She didn't want to look more towards the mirror because she knew this person really shouldn't be hanging around her during all of this, but she almost had no choice. Although at first there was a lack of someone at the slightly opened door behind her from what she saw, she still recognized a black-nailed hand wrapping around the doorway.

"Seems like Chizuru's still a little... _anxious_ around me. I feel as though I shouldn't be surprised."

Elisabeth recognized more and more of the red-clad 'friend' that leaned through the doorway slightly. This was not doing any favors towards her worries from earlier. "...Could you _not_ , Ash?"

The notorious Ash tsked, having expected a bit of pushback upon even a single visit. "After all this time, and you still act as if I'm haunting you. You really shouldn't be so tense around me all the time, Betty."

"And you really shouldn't be here right now." This was especially true considering the ladies-only situation of the tournament. This, combined with the long and aggravating past they had in the past plus-decade, had Elisabeth fighting the urge to use her riding crop for a serious beating on her old friend.

"Just..." Elisabeth turned and began to walk towards the door. "Just _leave me alone_."

Then the door slammed hard – would've probably taken part of Ash's arm clean off had he not moved it out of the way beforehand. His light grin faded to a grimace of slight frustration as he leaned and sat down against the wall next to the door and sighed, knowing things were far from smooth between him and 'Betty'. 'Forgive and forget' truly meant fuck all in this case.

Although that wasn't all that crept by the 'Sneering Blaze' to taunt for his being rejected, as the assorted chuckling from a certain sinister bunch was heard walking up to him.

"Well, well – look who also decided to show up," said Mature, who stood in front in the set of three between herself, Vice and Shermie, in representing Orochi's heralds of the past. "You trying to sneak into this tournament?"

"If so, you can't possibly be serious," Vice scoffed, adding onto her partner's teasing. "You may seem like a woman desperately trying to get out of this male body, but I'm afraid you still don't qualify."

Ash chuckled away the petty insults. "I get that a lot, don't I?" He began to stand back up. "I'm not here to compete, ladies. I just wanted to meet up with an old friend."

"At this point, calling Miss Blanctorche your _friend_ is debatable at best," Mature responded. "After what she dealt with from you, it's safe to say she doesn't want to be associated with you."

Vice added, "If you want to stick around and see us tear through all the other ladies in competition, that's fine – but don't get in our way unless you want to lose your life again."

Ash denies, "If you think I'm planning something, think again – I'm not in the mood to cause trouble. Besides... you talk about a 'ladies-only competition' here..." Something about that term stuck to him, with a taste of intrigue in his own little way. "I wasn't planning on sticking around for long but... I might be willing to be a spectator if Betty allows me."

"Get serious, kid – she'd let Shingo in to watch the action before she would let you in," joked Vice.

Ash smirked against the invisible dark aura that lingered. "I'll find a way. I always do. Moreover, does the dame in the back have anything to say to me as well?" For up to this moment, his focus in the conversation was with the secretaries of Orochi, but it was at this point that he started to recognize that the third of the bunch, the lovely Shermie, seemed to be looking longingly towards him.

"Ignore her," Mature demanded. "She's just a carry-on, doesn't mean all that much to us."

Vice sounded noticeably annoyed to admit, "She just _really_ wanted to see this world again, and we couldn't exactly afford to just say no."

Ash glared at the pink-clad beauty in the back-end. "That true, _madame_?"

Shermie nodded. "Yeah. Plus... you're kinda cute."

"Ignore that, too," Mature additionally demanded, before turning towards the rest of the hallway ahead. "This way, girls." The three began to make their way to whatever room concerned them next, leaving to his lonesome again, just to look on.

" _I'd hate to leave them be like that,_ " he thought as he looked on at the trio, " _but I must admit, the view isn't all too bad._ " His focus was mostly on Shermie at this point – more notably, her admittedly curvy rear submerged under the nicely-trimmed skirt.

This was going to be an interesting week...

* * *

 **In case you're wondering, Ash is going to the _only_ male character in this story – at least, the only male character I plan on including in this story – and yes, there will eventually be a couple scenes involving him that will warrant the rating of the story. It is mainly because his sort of effeminate look kinda matches decently with the ladies-only tournament going on, and he'd make the perfect sort of guy to be included on the side while things go down.**

 **The next chapter (maybe the next couple) will mainly be about the competitors leading up to the beginning of the tournament; some will align themselves with others, some others will grow to hate each other, among other things. It may be a while before the next chapter comes, so stay tuned.**


	5. Pre-Round Lunacy Part 1

**Yes, there'll be more than one of these pre-round meet-ups with several of the competitors – unlike guys like jojoDO who manage to get chapters of even bigger word-counts out within a week or two of the last one, I'm one of those guys who just sometimes doesn't bother for the most part of a month... but I'm sure you've figured that out by now. [ _cries in 'Tournament of Fate'_ ]**

 **Whatever – I had a fairly active November given I posted a chapter at the very start of the month, a very brief one-shot a couple days after, and a two-shot that was started and completed within a week some time in the later half of the month, so I'm feeling good. For December, on the other hand... yeah, we'll just wait and see.**

 **Regardless, enjoy.**

* * *

"No, Malin, there's no supernatural conspiracy going on with this tournament..."

"You don't know that! You don't know if someone like that stone-bender guy or the pink creepo, is trying to pull a fast one over all of us while this is happening!"

Sometimes Athena regretted teaming up with Malin in the past, even if it was just _once_ in the _King of Fighters_ tournaments. The two clearly met on different wavelengths when it came to their personalities and their attitudes. It wasn't any more clear than what the young agent girl was thinking right here.

Athena brought a palm to her own face, clearly not up for this sort of crap. "Malin, you've only been in two tournaments – it's not a guarantee that some super-evil being is either actively involved in the behind-the-scenes politics of the tournament, or trying to ruin the host's plans of the tournament just for laughs."

Malin rolled her eyes. "I like to speculate things – it keeps my mind on edge, and sometimes you could use a little tension on the mind during a tournament. Keeps you on your toes, makes you want to win harder so you can find out the truth."

"Does your speculation also consider Yuri as a target of your hatred? Cause that's the only other thing that's been on your mind."

"It's not just her – her whole dojo is a load of shit! They keep saying I'm just a joke!"

In between the spats of discussion between the two, a knock on the door started ringing out to the room they shared. Athena continued, "It's not fun sometimes to actively try to bully someone over insults – these tournaments aren't just about squashing rivalries, it's about proving yourself as a true fighter."

"But—"

"Hold that thought, by the way, pretty sure someone's knocking," Athena acknowledged the knocks at the door, which grew slightly more irritated on the second round before the Psycho Soldier got up to answer it.

The door was opened and the two 'High School Girls' were met with a pair of hands carrying a pillar of luggage that almost stacked higher than the doorway, wobbling around as the person behind it tried to walk through carefully without messing something up.

Athena had to crane around a little bit to try and figure out who was trying to find a room to crash in, but she didn't have to crane far to figure it out once she noticed the curly pink hair. "Mignon? What the heck are you doing?"

Mignon sat down the obscene amount of carry-on in the center of the quarters, but not before nearly falling on her butt due to the cause-and-effect of the weight she was carrying on her hands alone. "Moving in."

Athena was baffled, to say the least. "Wha—with _me_?"

Malin was about ready to whip out a weapon to defuse the situation. "Want me to take care of this?

"No, I got this." Athena shooed her acquaintance out of the way. "Mignon, I may not know you all that well, but I'm pretty sure you hate me, for whatever reason – why do you want to share this room with me?"

Mignon's response was about what you'd expect from the witch-in-training. "Mignon knows a thing or two about strategy – how to get into the head of the enemy. What better way to figure out your rival than to share a space with them? You know the saying – 'know thy enemy, live with thy enemy'."

"I don't think that's how the saying works..."

Mignon giggled mischievously. "See? Your mind is crumbling already!" The way she was saying phrases like that, as a means to seem 'smart', sounded so stupid as a result. "Soon, you'll feel too out of your element to effectively use your psychic powers, and it'll be Mignon who has the last laugh!"

* * *

 _ **5 seconds later...**_

Mignon felt herself swiftly kicked out of the room, with her assorted belongings following suit, toppling out and around her body. Maybe saying that stuff out loud _wasn't_ a good idea.

"Eeeeyoowwwch!" She rubbed her booted and now-sore back, before turning looking towards the open door. "You may have won this time, Asamiya, but this isn't Mignon's last pa-" The door slammed shut on her, silencing her threats that were likely as empty as her mind.

"–rade..." Mignon's angered expression faded as she began to feel how much of a bad time she was starting to have. She laid down flat against the floor, staring to the hallway lights above as she tried to recollect what went wrong. Chances were she was going to blame anything but herself.

"Oh wow – look who's flat on her ass again..." Someone was bound to notice the witch during one of her low points, and of them all, it was the 'Queen Bee' Nagase who walked up and into the pinkette's skyward vision. "You just keep trying to kick life, and life just kicks back harder. You ever gonna learn, Beart?"

Mignon groaned angrily, "Mmmnnn! Would you back off, you pesky bee? Can't you see Mignon's having a moment!"

Nagase crouched down to get closer to the witch's face. "Or maybe Mignon needs to shut the fuck up once and a while – how about that, huh? I might be the type of girl to be loud in all sorts of ways, but you... you're _too_ loud. For anyone to handle."

"I'M NOT LOUD, _YOU'RE_ LOUD! I'LL STICK MY THUMB THROUGH YOUR EYE!" As she was hilariously flailing her arms around on the ground, it was obvious that Mignon was clearly not hearing herself right, in more ways than one, and it was just proving the young rebel ninja's point even further.

Nagase stifled a laugh, "Tch – if there's anything Lien and I can actually agree on, it's that we _both_ know you desperately need a reality check... and maybe you'll get one when the tournament starts." She stood back up, preparing to head off. "Oh, and one more thing..."

Suddenly, before she could fully process seeing it, Mignon abruptly felt one of Nagase's boots stamping down against the side of her face, before scraping by as she walked on and over her, talking the witch down one last time. "There. Now we're even..."

A light imprint of the underside of Nagase's shoe was left across the right side of Mignon's face – she felt the harsh ache across her head and tried to rub it away with one of her silky-gloved hands. It was far from the start of the tournament, and already she was getting treated like a dull ol' doormat by the other competitors, being walked over and left behind like a piece of trash. It didn't sit well with her, and it sure didn't seem like something that Lady Elisabeth would've appreciated. Would she tattle?

No... with the potential within, she'd make the haters learn one day, eventually.

Maybe.

Well, probably not.

Okay, _most likely_ not.

* * *

Sometimes, it was a benefit to be able to tip down some drinks, get some good battles in, and mingle with the rest of the bunch without having to deal with supernatural bullshit. In this case, Vanessa and Mary were coping well with the drinks provided within Elisabeth's mansion – not quite like the bars back in Southtown, but convenient nonetheless.

The redheaded boxer in Vanessa was a few shots of smooth alcohol in, achieving quite a state of relaxation as the drinks helped her mind unwind leading up to the tournament.

"I needed this so much," she sighed, a slight slur across her lips as she eyed her almost empty shot glass – her third shot of pure tequila on this night. "I'll admit – work can be such a hassle sometimes; we both deserved a little time to unwind, don't you think?"

"If that's how you want to put it – I kinda don't wanna stop you while you're having fun..." Mary lightly twirled her own half-empty glass around in her hand, while resting the elbow of her other arm against the bar table.

"If I get a couple more glasses down, I'd probably end up fighting _you_ if you tried."

"We probably will if 'Lis arranges it."

Vanessa giggled, imagining the possibility. "Maybe. Either way, it's all in good fun for us, right?"

Mary sounded slightly hesitant to respond as she glanced down the glass below her. "...Yeah."

Vanessa blinked a couple times before she started to recognize the reluctance in her fellow operative's tone. "Uh... you okay, Mary? You sound... off."

The choice of whether to deny or accept her worries to her partner lingered on the blonde for a moment, but she ultimately knew which direction was easier to handle between the two of them. "Well... I gotta admit, there's some... gripes, to say the least, about the tournament. Mainly, some of the other girls hanging around here."

Vanessa hummed vacantly for a little bit while the drink went further through her system, before admitting, "...Might be the liquor, but I'm having a little trouble seeing what you mean."

A little flustered, Mary didn't know how to make the deal even more understandable, especially for her buzzed tagalong. "C'mon, you and I both know who else is in this tournament: Angel, Jenet, the Hakkesshu ladies... and don't get me started on Lien – she's been a threat around the outer reaches of Southtown for so long, and this is probably the closest I feel we're getting to taking her down."

Vanessa shuffled her shoulders a little bit as things started to settle in within her mind. "Okay... starting to see your point now – whole bunch of bad girls hanging around in one place, and you think now's the time to tag 'em and take 'em down?"

"Wouldn't be an easy job, I'll admit," said Mary, "but it's worth a shot if we focus a little bit towards making sure those ladies don't get far."

"And if we both lose?" Vanessa brought up that possibility, "What then? You heard Elisabeth, she's got cameras all around and she isn't taking any exceptions if we try to fuck anyone over for the sake of being a mercenary and all that. It'd be _our_ asses on the spotlight, and you know how the lady uses that little crop of hers."

"Probably the best idea not to piss her off. Besides that, we don't know how we're going to be placed in the first round. We might either get set up with some easy pickings, or some tough-as-iron babes. There's risk and opportunity, but all that mostly matters now, is luck."

Vanessa leaned against the table – most likely to keep balance in case the alcohol took its toll. "When it comes to that, I wouldn't say we have all the luck in the world. It's not like we see any three-leaf clovers hanging around where we sit."

Mary corrected, " _Four_ -leaf – you're drunk."

"I've had like three shots..."

"Yeah, well, you picked some strong stuff." Mary started to get up from her seat, removing her green jacket and bringing it over her shoulder. "Come on. We should start training soon – could be tomorrow, or it could be later tonight, but we gotta get ready for the tournament when it starts.

As the blonde walked past, Vanessa began to look at her black-gloved hands, lightly rotating her wrists. She almost didn't want to admit, "It's been a while. Probably should work off the rust..."

Even in calmer times like this, there was still work to be done somewhere...

* * *

 _ **Meanwhile, across to the other side of the expansive mansion...**_

Similar to Mary and Vanessa's little mingle, Mai, King, and Yuri were partaking in their glasses of blissful commemoration towards the tournament that was yet to begin.

Yeah, nothing suited better for a little bit of celebration to the times ahead, for the three 'founding females' to the Women Fighters Team, like a bit of sweet alcohol? ...Well, on Mai and King's part, at least; Yuri was not only below consent age ( _of 20 years old in Japan_ ), but meant to be upholding the purity of the next generation of Kyokugenryu karate.

Wait, where were we? Oh, right, celebrations...

King seemed especially refreshed once the drink traveled straight down her throat. Considering she owned her own bar, and she fancied her own customized cocktails on top of that, this type of stuff was almost in her blood. "Didn't know how much I wanted a 'girls night out' type of deal like this, until it came right to us."

The former bouncer then glanced towards Yuri's way. "I'm sure you wanted this, too, right? I'm betting the testosterone at the dojo's a little too much to handle at times."

"I... wouldn't say that, exactly," Yuri started to respond, "but it's always great to have time with the girls whenever I can." One could tell that she had a hint of nervousness regarding the circumstances. "Just kinda crazy that it's _all_ _ladies_ in this tournament, I guess."

"Well... times are a-changing, Yuri." As she held her half-empty glass with a casual flair, King's focus shifted towards the underclothed kunoichi, the half-smile on her face and the fair amount of drink left in her glass compared to the others. "Something going on with you, Mai? You seem a little... occupied."

Mai glared down at her drink, having only taken a couple notable sips at the point. She chuckled awkwardly. "Sort of a _sake_ kind of girl, I guess."

King knew the Japanese beauty long enough to know it wasn't just the drink that was having the Japanese beauty a little lacking on the usual optimism. "Andy still on the mind?"

The hesitation on the response was _unpleasantly_ long. "...Maybe."

King simply shrugged, unsurprised. "Yeah, figured as much. When you tend to have a lover, they tend to be on the back of your mind whenever you travel. Speaking of..."

Yuri saw King's glance meet her again, and she knew why. "Don't look at me; Robert's got the dojo to hang around, keep him busy – nothing for me to worry about."

King said, "If this tournament were televised, you'd know he'd be rooting you on; same with Andy cheering on Mai."

"Yeah... it's not, though," said Mai. "A shame, too; a lot of people are gonna be missing out, and Elisabeth would've made a _lot_ of money off of this."

"I dunno if you think so, but to me, she kinda has this hipster vibe," said Yuri. "Isn't willing to make money, isn't in it for the mainstream, is really uptight about the rules, it seems like—"

King interrupted, "Yuri, I—I feel like you're railing onto some odd territory – you didn't binge on pot cookies before the trip, did you?"

Yuri stammered hard on her words, like someone who ignored a verbal wet-floor sign within her mind. "Wha—d-don't just say that out loud! There's cameras!"

King didn't show worry. "Elisabeth's got thirty ladies to focus on at a time for this tournament; I'd have a hard time believing she's got priorities."

"And if she does," Mai added, "we don't know if she has a zero-tolerance sort of thing towards even the simplest stuff."

Slowly feeling cornered into a little bit of intentionally-provoked paranoia, Yuri started itching her elbow. "You're getting me worried now – don't like it, not a bit."

"Not exactly denying that 'pot cookie' question, now are you?" King was right about to chuckle.

"I'm not confirming it, either!" The Sakazaki sister was growing beet-red with uneasiness. "I dunno if I want to trust you girls with anything – there's a good chance rumors could spread, especially if we say anything around... someone... _nearby_..."

Yuri's eyes inched further to the left as she spoke, and her words faded into a quiet, alert sense of finding danger nearby...

…and 'danger' was a fairly accurate word to describe the situation that was starting to form up. As Yuri sank down in her seat, Mai and King quickly noticed why – with a competitor as treacherous as Lien Neville being not too far from where the Women Fighters Team sat, the best tactic off the top of anyone's head would be to just avoid direct contact.

" _Shit._ " King's tone grew slightly hushed as she fully recognized from a distance. "Someone might be lookin' for trouble, looks like. Hard to tell, though..." She wasn't all too sure at the moment; regardless, the three close friends looked on towards the catsuit-clad assassin as she seemed to be tending time to her own thoughts, reclining against a wall with arms crossed.

Mai didn't lookparticularly scared by the presence of Lien, however – a near 180 from Yuri feeling scared shitless. Unlike King, the two certainly had a reason to recognize her. "Yeah... Yuri and I, we've... kinda had a bit of a past with this chick. A couple of tournaments on the side, a little bit of extra fun on the side."

"But she... she's _not fun_ to mess with," Yuri followed up, recognizing her opinion from experience.

Mai continued, "Heard she was raised to be a killer, taught not to feel like a normal lady. Cold-hearted bitch..." She couldn't help but smile a little bit, as she recalled the skill, "...but a hell of a fighter, I'll admit."

The details didn't exactly sour all that much on King – didn't sweeten, either. "Doesn't sound all that different from some of the fighters _I_ know." A lot of very dangerous competitors had come by her way (alongside Mai and Yuri), so she was a little desensitized to those kinds of competitors – then again, she didn't have as much of an attendance record in the _King of Fighters_ tournaments and any loosely-connected side-tourneys as her multiple-time partners. "A couple of tournaments, you say? Maybe I'd have to see it to believe it."

"Yeaaah, not surprised you'd think that," Mai said. "The deep part of Southtown that she hangs around in has a lot of people who are either really tough, really weird, or both – more than usual – but she's a _real_ special case; probably the most normal-looking babe over there, but in the times I've been there, she nearly won _twice_. Doesn't sound like a lot for us, but some people in the KOF tournament are lucky to have more than _one_ win if their name isn't Kyo."

King seemed quite fascinated by the amount of info being dumped on her. "For having a bit of 'extra fun' down there, you know a lot, don't you?"

Yuri whispered, "Yeah, just... _don't speak up too loud about it_. Chances are she doesn't like hearing people talk about all this – might think we're all talking crap behind her ba—"

" _You know I can hear everything you're saying, right? It's not like the ambiance in this place is helping in hiding your little chat..._ " The pupils of Yuri's eyes shrank significantly, as the three recognized the sense of fear spreading around and damn near silencing them.

Lien's eyes officially met the direction of where the classic 'Women Fighters' were seated, thus bringing them in her crosshair. _Worrying_ was just a simple word for them to describe the moment.

Yuri started to scurry up behind King. "You handle this, King; I don't wanna risk it..."

" _Might as well..._ " King thought, considering that the best idea might be to just try and play casual to diffuse the tension – no use really running away, it'd probably make it worse. "Uh, Lien, was it? If you're willing to just talk and have a few drinks, go ahead if you want."

Lien responded about as you'd expect. "Not in the mood to socialize – especially with _you_."

Well, there went that. King looked lightly unsettled as Lien approached a little closer – that offer was the only idea off the top of her head at the moment. "...Well, shit, what _do_ you want? Clearly you don't just sit by and brood by yourself for no reason."

"This place is a fucking maze," Lien bluntly explained. Her honesty about the location said enough for what a handful others might've also been thinking; a mansion like what all the competitors were in wasn't the most optimal locale for a tournament. "Just trying to find some calm and quiet before I wind up doing something that Blanctorche will make me regret."

"Didn't think of you as someone who wouldn't like what she was putting down," King said.

"It's not that I outright don't like her," Lien retorted. "I may grow to respect her for what she wants to arrange, but... I'd be a liar if I said I agreed with _all_ the rules she set out. You wouldn't know this, given this is likely the first time you've met me, but I demand honesty out of people – otherwise, they might not live long enough to figure out how they've wronged me."

The feeling of being intimidated was far from what crossed King's head. She seemed rather amused, actually. "Lien – if there's something I can easily be honest about, it's that you seem like you've got the right mind for your profession. Cold, calm but blunt, no need to show your anger on the surface – it's not the best mentality, but I think I can respect that."

Lien's hands suddenly slammed against the table, as she was ever so closer to the bartender. " _I've killed people._ Of course you should respect me – and so should your friends – because even if you don't, we aren't going to have a problem, are we?"

"I dunno... _are we_?" The conversation seemed to have taken a little bit of a turn, as Mai interjected herself, seating herself onto the table right in between King and Lien, leaving her uncomfortably up-close with the tightly-clothed assassin.

Lien was unamused with Mai stepping in for her friend. "Do you ever learn, Shiranui? You might make things worse for the three of you."

Mai kept a confident face as she responded. "King's got my back, and I got hers. I'm taking a risk, I know, but I've been doing it for a while, and now my beauty's gotten me worldwide popularity. Meanwhile, you're still hanging in the slums, cracking necks. Tell me, who here really deserves more respect?"

Lien almost felt an eyelid of hers twitch with seething frustration. "I don't _need_ to be world-reknown to do what I do best – if they don't respect me, they should fear me for what I could do to them. Otherwise, sod off, you stupid minx."

"You heard what Elisabeth said, right – ' _thou shalt not kill_ '. You might want to remember that, and calm down, before it gets you the boot." Mai seemed intent on teasing Lien with the prospect of a potential kill right on the spot. It was mainly meant to anger the fearsome British beauty, and in a way, it was working to a 'T'.

All that remained between the two contrasting beauties was the intense stare, feeling loosely connected to each other like a spark of furious lightning as they were inches from each others' faces. The only thing that kept them from being even closer were the impressive pairs of breasts between two, pressing against each other with near symmetry.

Ultimately, there was no physical contact between them before Lien started to back away, but before she did, she had one 'gift' to give before departing – a thimble of spit hawked towards the kunoichi, landing off-center onto the right cheek of her face.

"Vapid bitch." You could really tell Lien was struggling against the urge to clock Mai with one swift haymaker to the jaw, but she knew rules were rules, and she wasn't completely a fan of them.

It was back to just Mai, King and Yuri before long, but even that wasn't for that much longer, as Mai got off the table. "I think I'm gonna go head off for a little bit."

King asked, "Thinking of paying her back for that?"

Mai brought a hand against the saliva that was just aggressively projected onto her face. "No... but I heard it's not gonna be long before Elisabeth gets the tournament going. Might as well get some stretching in. Later, girls."

King silently waved goodbye to the kunoichi as she made her way out from the scene. Speaking of the tournament, it seemed to be the one thing left on her mind. "Looks like the competition might be tougher after all – don't you think so, Yuri?"

Her eyes glanced right towards the Kyokugenryu prospect, expecting a quick answer from her that hopefully followed her getting over the intimidation factor of what Lien brought to the table moments ago. However, she didn't hear anything in the sort of a quick answer, and she saw that Yuri was more focused on her own chest – not just on a mental factor, but she was feeling at herself with a look of slight sadness about what she had.

Guess the comparison to what Mai and Lien were carrying within their own chests, had Yuri feeling a little envious, and King could recognize it with a bit of a giggle. "Don't worry about it..."

* * *

 **One more post for November – at the very tail-end of it, no less. Hope you enjoyed, as your patience has been rewarded once again. Until next time...**


	6. Pre-Round Lunacy Part 2

**A little bit of a story before we jump into things: recently, I managed to snag a copy of _King of Fighters XI_ from a local retro game store and I've gotten real interested in it since I started playing. I can now chalk up another KoF game to my list next to '98: Ultimate Match, and Maximum Impact 2 ( _aka KOF 2006, which is still weird after having it for less than a year, since it's not a canon KOF game_ ). Guess that shows I'm starting to feel like a true fan of the games. Don't be surprised if updates take _slightly_ longer than usual because of my ventures into KOF XI, but chances are it won't do much of anything since updates aren't all that often in terms of monthly stuff.  
**

 **Anyways, enjoy the chapter, 'read & review' and all that.**

* * *

The overall atmosphere of the tournament's scenery seemed welcoming to the competitors mingling amongst one another in the prelude to them punching each other's faces in – not _everybody_ was partaking in such casual ideals, mostly due to circumstances of their personality (with some such as Lien being the sort of 'lone wolf' type) or because they'd want to spend more time honing their skills.

Aoi was none of the above at the moment.

Barely anyone would've known it (implying that she was anything other than an unknown compared to most of the rest), but the askew branch of the Kusanagi family tree was very deep within some mental conflict at the moment, and she needed a room to herself, to relax for a moment. Initially, she was just jumping into the tournament out of mild intrigue – without connection to the main line of _King of Fighters_ tournaments, it meant there was less to worry about in terms of getting in, no teams or whatever...

...but she was still unprepared for some of the ladies who came around along with her.

Mature, Vice, and Shermie: they were a few among some of the wickedness that had become all too familiar to her. Without putting into the foreground too much, too quickly – it all started because of her often rebellious mind.

In the midst of her mind holding a cloud of clear calmness, the door to the room creaked open, and that was enough to violently snap Aoi right out of her deepest inner thoughts. Although there was an initial feeling of spontaneous panic, it was with great relief that the person entering through wasn't anyone of the Hakkesshu.

It was the young strawberry-brunette with the heart-emblemed shirt, Moe – and she was caught with brief surprise. "Oh crap, sorry – didn't know there was someone already in here."

Aoi was a little flustered by her own mind at the moment, but words still found a way out of her mouth. "It's fine. I wasn't... uh, planning on sharing the room with somebody, but... it is what it is, I guess."

"...Yeah..." With a look befitting her feelings of awkwardness shared with the motorbiker, Moe set her backpack down. "Uhh, are you alright?"

Aoi responded, shoulders relaxed as her hands rested palms-flat on the bed, "I'm just... thinking."

"Seems like there's something really tough going on in your head. Or... maybe some _one_." Moe was quick to make some assumptions about what may be going through the other girl's head – wasn't necessarily all too good to start things off, but it was interesting to try.

It seemed as if Moe was about on-point with what Aoi was generally going through at the moment, however. "Yeah... pretty much. I'll be honest, though; I dunno if I should go into detail about it – you probably wouldn't understand."

Moe started to share a seat at the bed. "Maybe I would; you're Kyo's cousin, right?"

Aoi's eyes slightly widened. "...You know Kyo?"

"Long story." Moe was willing to spare her the verbal long-haul. "He didn't say a lot about you – just that you're a 'trouble child' of sorts."

"Well, I can't deny that. Kinda buried myself in the mud a little, and it left a permanent mark. It's... not entirely something I did to myself, more that I've wound up with some others. I've sure you saw what went down earlier ...You ever hear of the Hakkesshu?"

"Those scummy Orochi followers? From Kyo, yeah, I've heard a bit... you didn't happen to piss them off, did you?"

"Not exactly – wasn't a matter of me doing something to get them on my tail, but rather... something that linked me to them."

Moe was curiously intrigued by the wording of how Aoi said it. "Well, that's got me hooked onto your story already. How exactly did it all start?"

A little hesitant in recollecting the past, Aoi was starting to feel that, at this point, the two of them were in too deep with the conversation to leave anything of true importance out of mentioning. "It all started with family issues, believe it or not – I wasn't really on the best of terms with my brother. I ran away from home, and soon after, I bumped into one of them. I guess I just didn't want to share the same kind of flames as the rest of the family, so I asked for a little bit of a change-up."

Moe spoke up partway through. "Seems a little extreme, don't you think?"

"More than I expected," said Aoi. "Next thing I knew, I had flames of violet, and it wasn't just a fresh coat of paint on my powers – I had a little bit of the Orochi in me, same as them. It's been lingering in me ever since."

For a moment, Moe imagined the deep hole in her soul that would've formed had she gone through the same thing. To her, it may as well have been a literal demon within her. " _Jeez..._ I was steering clear of bad influences already – you might be helping me get further away from them."

A beat of silence sat between Moe and Aoi as they let it all soak in, before the former spoke up again. "There's something I'm kinda wondering, though..."

Aoi glanced ahead at Moe. "Hmm?"

"Did you ever... go crazy from it? Like some of the other guys who were infected with it?"

"...Surprisingly, no. Maybe it's because Orochi itself has been long gone. Maybe I'm still too pure to succumb to it. All I know is, if it ever did happen... I'd just want to be sure I wouldn't be alone, that there was someone at my side to try and help me out, even if it meant risking their lives."

Another momentary silence, slightly shorter than the last. Soon enough, as she started to think on it, Moe began to stand back up, off the bed. "Well, I can't promise all _that_ for you... and hopefully it doesn't come to that point. If it does, I'm sure someone would have your back." She adjusted the sweater wrapped around like a belt, around the waist of her skirt, and looked about ready to head out. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick, then maybe get a bit of stretching down, in case everything kicks off later tonight."

Before she completely left Aoi's sight, Moe stopped at the doorway and looked back one more time. "Don't think too hard on all that Orochi business – there's nothing worse than having your spirits low in a tournament like this."

She departed the room with a smile, and Aoi was left to herself once more. She laid down on the bed again, taking in the silence and self-held serenity for some time longer.

…

"You're _not_ alone..."

Aoi's head perked up again to recognize the voice sneaking into the room – at the doorway was yet another of the vast variety of competitors, her paleish blue easily recognizable from first sight.

"Leona?" Despite having never participated in one, was aware of many of the _King of Fighters_ ' competitors, the Ikari Warriors included. "...How much of that conversation did you hear?"

"Enough to understand how you feel," Leona responded, one hand grasping the opposing arm. "The Orochi is embedded in me as well."

Aoi could almost recall having heard rumors about that connection between the Riot of the Blood and the step-daughter of Heidern. "So those rumors were true, huh? I've... heard a little bit about that..."

"You should take up on your friend's advice," Leona simply suggested. "We face the same fear of succumbing to our darkest side and never coming back. It pains me even to barely feel it when the presence looms by."

"Guess you know a lot more about it than I do," said Aoi. "I wouldn't imagine having to go through what you might've."

Leona suddenly spoke up, "I've tried to take my own life before – I didn't have to live this way, but I choose now to hold my own against what tries to pry me from my mind."

By Aoi's standards, the conversation took quite a turn, and her subtly terrified expression matched how she felt. "...I really didn't need to know all that."

"Just hope that you don't experience what I did." Leona chose then to close the conversation and walk off, leaving Aoi more than a bit shaken.

To say it was a _little_ pessimistic was an underplay.

* * *

Imagine the situation – jumping into a part of the world that contained so many unique snowflakes in one tight square of gathering, and still being as normal and straight-up powerless as you are.

That was what Kyoko, the little cosplayer in a big pond, was going through at the moment.

She spent the time, between being dismissed from hostess Elisabeth's meeting to now, wandering around the mansion just to see where her curiosity took her – and where it took her was a line of interesting little situations left available to her eyes by open doors.

"Stop, that's the wrong button!"

"Which one? – there's _two_!"

" _That_ one!"

One room was shared by the avid gamer-agent Ai and Leona's appointed partner Fio, who were trying to do a little bit of odd co-op with the former's Neo Geo Pocket – and clearly, was having a bit of struggle with this piece of technology that wasn't some sort of military weaponry. An odd pairing of girls to have in one go, safe to say.

As she passed by a couple more doors, mostly leading to empty rooms, Kyoko was startled as another one of the more odd characters of this whole arrangement poked themselves through the doorway – the electrical eccentric Sylvie Paula Paula, maintaining a terrifyingly wide smile on her face.

"Bibibi~! Are you Paula's roommate?"

With how the oddjob was presenting herself, with the insanely colorful getup and just passing herself off as a relative psycho upon the first impression, it was easy to see why Kyoko would rather walk away from her without a word to say than say anything at all.

The cosplayer certainly found the peak of oddness there, but it didn't prepare her for an awkward sight from one of the rooms ahead, as she soon witnessed a brief piece of what was probably meant to be a private training session involving a couple of the relatively more normal side of the cast...

...in the form of the two representing the martial art form of Taekwondo in a slightly suggestive position, where Luong had her long legs wrapped tightly around May Lee's body, in a body-scissors hold that threatened to crack a rib or two within the wannabe hero. May Lee noticed Kyoko at the doorway first, blushing slightly as she felt somewhat embarrassed to be seen like this. On the other hand, noticed the cosplayer and didn't seem to mind a bit.

After an awkward, longing stare, Kyoko grabbed for the knob of the half-open door. "...I'm just gonna close this." Then she made good on her word, closed the door and kept walking...

...where she immediately bumped into another body coming in the other direction. As she fell on her butt on the floor, she was prepared to look up and see someone hopefully as normal as she was.

She was probably wrong, as who she wound up bumping into were Nakoruru and Love Heart, the two most out-of-this-world girls of the competition, who were out of the casual wear they entered with and into their more normal attires – normal in relative to the timelines they originated from, at least.

Kyoko was caught a bit off-guard by the interesting attires of the two – however, she didn't exactly see 'two people stranded from their own dimensions'. "...Please tell me you two are cosplayers, too."

Love said, "How would you feel if we said 'no'?"

Kyoko got back up, feeling a little bit achy from the little fall. "I figured – this whole place is full of weirdos. I'm glad I get to be alongside so many of the women I recognize from the tournaments I've watch, but I was _not_ prepared for... well, _everything else_."

"I feel you probably shouldn't be surprised," said Nako. "From the time we've spent here, we've seen a lot of interesting people come and go. Some would say being unique is a necessity in this world."

Kyoko soon lamented, "Guess I'm just not unique enough to hang around this place."

"We were in the same kind of predicament as you, kid." Love said with assurance. "It was like being a fish out of water, or a bird out of the sky. You'll get used to it – especially if you handle yourself."

Abruptly, Kyoko felt the sensation of something flying up to the back of her head, like a bird. Except it was a bird – a hawk as a matter of fact. "Agh, what the fff—get off!" The cosplayer flailed around as the hawk hovered by, eventually finding a place on Nakoruru's shoulder.

"Speaking of birds..." said Love.

"Don't go wandering off like that, Mamahaha," Nakoruru told her pet. "Sorry about that –

Kyoko was making sure her vintage Kyo cosplay didn't get too rustled by the hawk's brief disturbance. "Girls, I don't think I'm gonna get used to this."

"If you can't handle it, know you won't have to deal with it for more than just this week," Love said, "or however long the hostess is considering keeping us."

Nakoruru then said, "Just try your best, is all we can say. We know you're not that much of a competitor, but who knows? Maybe the experience will help mold you into a better-defined type of person."

The two other-world competitors went on their merry way, leaving the costumed normie to herself.

"Uh, okay, bye..." Kyoko awkwardly said to the duo on their departing path.

Sure as hell would've benefited from a bit _more_ motivation than that, but she would have to make do. Hopefully no worries, despite no powers... _no problem ahead?_ She'd better have luck on her side, making it past Round 1.

* * *

The stench of alcohol was _much_ more apparent around here than anywhere else in the locale, and that was for a good reason.

The gorgeous and notorious Bonne Jenet usually spent her afternoon hours of her ruleless routine downing a few frothy mugs of cold, hard beer and on this day with the tournament coming up, it was no different.

On the other side of the table was the 'Fatal Cutie' Alice, who looked visibly intimidated – it might've been hidden jealousy from someone below the allowed drinking age, but more likely it was because Jenet had just slammed down a third refill of the stuff, and still seemed only relatively buzzed, as if she had only a couple shot glasses.

"Sooo..." Jenet leaned in a little closer as she started to chat up the fellow blonde. "I hear you're a friend of Terry's – is that right?"

Alice was a little hesitant to respond to the drunk pirate. "I'm, uh ...a big fan of him. Not quite a part of his circle of friends yet, but that's only cause I've only gotten to meet him some months ago at the last _KoF_." Alice let her fingers awkwardly linger around the outline of the table as "...Is there any reason why you're asking me about him? You didn't happen to have a bit of a one-off fling with him, did you?"

"Oh, if only..." Jenet sighed as if she was about to drift into a daydream. "He just seems like a total dreamboat – don't you think so?"

Alice blushed lightly. "Uhhh..."

Jenet had an elbow against the table, inching in a little closer. "C'mon, don't be shy. You're a fan for a reason, aren't you?"

Alice inched backwards in her chair. "L-look, I see what you mean – he's kind of a hot guy, but I don't think I'd be down to... you know... _bang_ him."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, _really._ Pretty sure he's probably got somebody else on the mind, rather than either of us."

"Hmm..." Jenet lightly moaned in disappointment. "Such a shame you wouldn't feel that way about him, like I do. I bet he'd be packing quite the todger."

"Yeah, I bet." Alice was only halfway in agreement – the other half would've rather she wasn't hearing that stuff.

"His boy-toy rookie isn't half bad as a looker, either, I'll admit," B. Jenet's eyes lingered to the clouds beyond the roof of the building. "If I could, I'd give half my treasures to maybe get a chance at a threesome with 'em. If I could, I'd probably bring you along, too!"

"Ah jeez..." Alice nervously tried to adjust her cap in a way to hide a bit more of her face.

Jenet chuckled a little towards Alice's major reluctance to the idea. "C'mon, honey, don't act like you can't handle a lil' bit of dirty talk goin' on around you. Just imagine it, though – some guy's meat in your puss, another's in your ass, it'd be loads of fun! Loads of cum out of them too, probably..."

By this point, Alice was starting to get out of her seat. "I think I'm gonna just go..."

Jenet asked, "Off to think about it somewhere private, I bet?"

"I think I'd rather _not_ think about it," Alice responded, making it clear she just wanted to step away from this conversation before it got _too_ mature for her to handle.

Jenet looked on as the Fatal Fury fangirl made her exit from the scene - the pirate crossed her legs and rested her face against a cupped hand... "Such a shame, too; you'd look so good getting DP'd..."

* * *

 **Admittedly, I felt like Jenet seemed like the kind of character to not be afraid to discuss some naughty possibilities – although with the inclusions of characters like Luong and Angel, who also seem to have some sensually provocative tendencies at least implied from their appearances in the series, that scene could've gone to someone else.**

 **I think I got one more full chapter of something before approaching the start of the tournament. As always, stay tuned for more...**


	7. R1: Moe Habana vs Cosplayer Kyoko

**I'm thinking it's about time to start getting past the fluff and into the action. I'm honestly feeling a little bit impatient myself. If you're aware of jojoDO's Grand Kumite story ( _which I assume you are at this point since I've mentioned it in earlier chapters of this_ ), the opening round is mostly meant to cull what is generally the weaker end of the roster, and to build up those who win for the possibility of them being cut down in the second round or further. Yes, some characters that you don't expect to make it past the first round likely won't, but there may be some upsets ahead.**

 **Also, my quest for playing various KOF games has evolved, since after getting myself a buttload of PlayStation Store cash, I managed to snag King of Fighters XIV and all its DLC during the holiday sale. I won't be playing it a lot, but I'll try to ease myself into learning a bit more about it heading into 2019. With that out of the way, enjoy.**

* * *

The participants of this well-awaited private tournament had initially arranged around the start of the afternoon. 3 hours had passed in that time, giving everyone more than enough to talk amongst themselves ( _whether the banter was friendly or hostile was dependent on the characters_ ) or to prepare themselves for what they may have to face heading into the tourney.

By the mid-day, around 5 PM, all 32 of these ladies were gathered back into the foyer where they stood in their initial arrivals, as the hostess of the tournament was about to address what everyone was expecting to be how this tourney starts off.

With how the participants arranged themselves, it was clear to see some sorts of alliances hanging around – from the classic Women Fighters, to the Another World duo, to the ladies of Hakkesshu, and so on...

Yuri was among the few actively gathering their fighting energy with a bit of stretching and hopping about in place.

King was amused with the optimism beside her. "Calm yourself, Yuri. You don't even know where you've been placed yet."

Mai added, "Too much sugar in the system, kid?"

Yuri giggled excitedly. "Head in hard, jump out of it harder – that's the Sakazaki way, isn't it?"

" _'The Sakazaki Way' is shit, you know!_ " Detractors were not far from where Yuri stood. From across to the other side of the foyer, Malin was again trying to heckle the young karate girl. "You're not impressing anybody!"

"Ugh, shut up, you brat..." Lien was a few footsteps to the right of where Malin stood, leaning against the railing near the bottom of the central stairs. The youthful end of the spectrum of fighters was clearly starting to give her a headache – from Malin, to Nagase, to Mignon, and so on...

Elsewhere in the room, 'Cosplayer' Kyoko had a spot standing alongside the Another World duo that she bumped into some time earlier, Nako and Love, alongside a few more like Leona, Fio and Ai. Being next to such colorful characters was starting to get her both fascinated and nervous, given she was a powerless high-school girl who was a _huge_ fan of Kyo.

"You okay down there?" Aoi was standing on the left side of where Kyoko was crouching about, seeming a bit more composed after earlier. "You're getting all jittery again. Starting to worry us."

"Wouldn't _you_?" Kyoko responded, slightly distressed. "Look at these girls, this line-up is insane!"

"Yeah, you'll get used to it soon." Aoi gave the cosplayer a light pat on the shoulder. "We _all_ have to."

It only made Kyoko's nerves a slight worse, knowing she was just touched by a relative to Kyo. "I—uhhh... okaaay..." She may need to remind herself to never wash her shoulder. She'd definitely forget, for sure...

From up until now, it all felt like the world's most intriguing get-together – but with this moment, the prelude was reaching its end.

Heading down the stairs at a collected pace, Elisabeth garnered the attention of all participating parties in the room as she stood in the middle of it all. The presence alone of the tournament's hostess was enough to calm the murmuring around the room.

Interestingly enough, Chizuru followed not too far behind the noblewoman with composure to match – being somewhat important to the arrangement of the tournament, it was necessary for her to be included in the meeting, especially with what was going to be discussed. Some weren't even aware of the priestess' presence, while the more notable veterans of the bunch certainly recognized her from past experiences alone.

Elisabeth began, "I see you've all been treating yourselves well in the time you've been here. Know that your patience will be rewarded the only way possible – with opportunity." She then acknowledged her business partner, "I'm sure at least some of you are aware of Miss Kagura behind me – she is here for a reason. Being my first time arranging a fighting tournament of this scale, I found it necessary to collaborate with someone with experience in regards to a tournament. Together, we were intent on making sure all goes well."

Elisabeth continued. "Like I said, it was up to me and me alone to decide the matches, and so too shall the locations of these fights. Due to the expansive nature of this mansion, a fight can begin nearly anywhere in the building – over the coming hours, a 'combat zone' will be decided at random, and a pair of competitors will be asked to make their way towards it for their fight. All the other competitors will be able to watch, whether they are nearby when the fight begins, or if they're on the other side of this residence, as each of these 'combat zones' is fitted with one of the cameras I've made you aware of. However, all of you being here right now has more of a reason than you'd think. Starting within the minute, we _will_ have our first few matches in this very room, for all to witness, _right now_."

The silent anticipation of the fighters skyrocketed for the moment before called, "Moe Habana! Kyoko Haruna!" _*_

The two selected girls approached the center of the room. Moe seemed a little caught with surprise by the spontaneous call to the fight, but very much willing to go ahead, while Kyoko was just plain caught off-guard by being brought in for the _very first fight_ – much sooner than she expected. That, and being addressed by her full name didn't help her nerves at all.

* * *

 **OPENING ROUND – FIGHT #1  
** **Moe Habana vs. Cosplayer Kyoko**

Moe and Kyoko stood inches from each other, with Elisabeth standing in between them, her stoic stare lingering between the two.

"I know that the both of you haven't quite taken a full grasp at success at this point of your lives – for one of you, you hadn't yet gotten a chance of the sort until now," Elisabeth said. "This is your chance to prove yourselves to your peers – to the young and the experienced. Make of it what you will, as there's no going back. Your fight will begin on my command – are you ready?"

Opposing responses between the two set to fight.

First, Habana – "Yeah."

Then Kyoko – "No?"

Elisabeth took a few steps back to keep herself out of the warpath that was going to form – not that it was completely a benefit overall, since the outline of the impromptu 'combat zone' composed only of the others who spectated.

...

" **Begin!** "

The two girls on the metaphorical spotlight circled around the radius for a moment, a means to ease into the fight without going straight into a cacophony of flying fists.

Kyoko's stance was very on-the-spot, attempting to emulate the confident stance of Kyo. "Uhhh... should we talk a bit about this first?"

"Don't think everyone would like a war of _words_ ," Moe responded. "Just give it your all, girl."

If she wasn't so optimistic on the inside in front of so many notable fighters, the slightly unprepared Kyoko would've chosen 'flight' over 'fight'. She lunged in with a fast sprint, attempting her damnedest to make the first move count.

A clutched fist was thrown forward... and was caught right in one of Moe's hands. She shrugged and smirked a little, before she shoved Kyoko's hand aside and went beneath with a couple of light backfist jabs. The last jab of the bunch hovered higher, just upside the chin of the cosplayer, and knocking her back.

Okay, not off to a great start for Kyoko, but maybe her punches weren't the right of way towards a considerably experienced competitor, even if it was a lesser-known fighter like the heart-shirted Habana.

She ran forward again, almost as quick as last time, and stretched a leg out with intention to catch her opponent in the chest. again caught the strike before it struck, and she came in with a swinging kick of her own, bringing her leg crashing against Kyoko's midsection, her knee specifically getting a square target on the cosplayer's gut. Then there was a bit of a spin-around between the two before Moe pushed Kyoko away with a foot pushing against her back, and the cosplayer stumbled away.

Kyoko was already starting to get worried about herself, and her reception from the peers. However, seeing the competitors circling around for the fight, and then at Elisabeth and Chizuru, she couldn't find anything negative _or_ positive on anyone's face yet. The fight did _just_ start, so not much to find a first impression from.

Kyoko found more struggle finding an opening against Moe than she would've with calculus. Ultimately, it all culminated in her mind at 'fuck it', and she charged forward for a third time, this time not for a punch or a kick, but a straight-up football tackle.

Initially, it worked, as Kyoko clung herself around Moe's waist while dashing further forward. 'Initially' is the key word here, as Moe started to lift herself up and over Kyoko's shoulders. Ultimately, she managed to flip over behind the cosplayer, and grabbed her with an arm going around Kyoko's face. One heave-ho brought Kyoko over with a flip backwards, back to facing in front of Moe as she did a half-circle spin forwards and struck the cosplayer real hard with an elbow smash that sent her flying into a splatting thud on the floor.

As she fell to the floor, Kyoko swore she could see a little pile of cherry blossom laying at the side following that big strike from Moe. She was _more_ focused, however, on the offense she was taking and what she wasn't managed to connect with.

"Jeez, you're fast," said Kyoko. "What the heck kind of fighting style is that?"

Moe answered, "Jeet Kune Do. What's the matter, you never heard of it?"

Kyoko shook her head. "I dunno if you've figured it out, but I don't usually fight."

"You ever watch a Bruce Lee movie?"

"...Ohhhh, okay," Kyoko realized, "was that what that's called?"

"Don't get your hopes up; it's really hard to learn from just watching movies, you miss a lot of other important things."

Now was Habana's turn to charge in for some choice strikes. Knowing she had to go on defense for the moment had Kyoko in a bit of a panic, but as the fists went flying at her, she managed to avoid most of them – but what hit, hit _hard_ against her, but she still made it to the end of the sequence in a light stagger.

Moe brought Kyoko around the isolated radius of the makeshift 'combat zone' with a shoulder throw, and then continued to level the cosplayer with some kicks to the back. She eventually backed off to see just how much was left in Kyoko's tank after so much damage taken.

Short answer: not a lot.

Cosplayer Kyoko was growing _very_ exhausted from the beating she was taking, and everything was just plain against her favor with this fight, _although it's not like it would've been in her favor with anyone else, admittedly._

On the other hand, Moe seemed slightly demotivated with how things were going... "You know, I was kinda looking forward to what you could do for your first time fighting – I _might_ be a bit rude in saying this, but I feel like everyone's expectations weren't that high on you... and you somehow went below _that._ "

Kyoko wiped away the sweat beneath her headband. "Yeah – there's a reason for that."

"And that is?"

"I. Don't. Fight."

Moe was just confused now. She dropped her fighting stance fairly early in this conversation. "Then _why_ did you accept the invitation for this?"

Kyoko explained, "I thought it was just a big party! For just the ladies! I didn't know I was going to head into a _bloodsport_ or some shit!"

The general atmosphere of the fight started to gather impatience and confusion among the competitors watching. As for Elisabeth – she had a palm against her face, clearly not amused with the current situation before her.

Moe responded, "I'm pretty sure you would've gotten the gist that it was going to be a tournament of some kind if you heard at last half of what everyone was speculating around you."

Kyoko retorted, "You say that assuming I'm _not_ amazed and confused by the people around me. You're not trying to make me feel like a dumbass for jumping on the chance, are you?"

"You _are_ a dumbass!" Moe went straight for the jugular with that response. She didn't _have_ to be blunt about this, but she was starting to get irritated. "If you wanted to get in on this, you should've known what you were expecting!"

With words like that being thrown her way, Kyoko was starting to brew some motivation to fight _for real_ despite her inexperience.

"Alright. That's it. Now I'm going full force."

The cosplayer made a run for it once again, and Moe was less prepared than usual given the conversation that ensued over the past minute. The punches that came barreling in seemed significantly more rough, being generated from a scorned high-schooler's emotions piling out.

Kyoko's swinging punches seemed to loosely emulate her Kusanagi idol, and her gratuitous Japanese matched with it. " _'Bodi ga, amee ze!'_ " She actually managed to get a couple of those strikes to connect to Moe's mid-section, but Habana managed to avoid getting truly messed up by the attempted combos going in.

Although Moe was particularly surprised by the turn of events going on, she was also a bit impressed. She thought, " _Well, what do you know? Maybe you needed a bit of motivation to get that drive going..._ "

Moe started to counter-act with some punches of her own, but it evolved quickly into an all-out brawl that was impressively even, and the 'crowd' regained that energy from the atmosphere of the fight, that was lost some moments ago.

However, as expected, Moe gained the advantage after a particularly hard elbow to the chest of Kyoko. It was followed up quickly with a spinning punch; at that point, the cherry blossom petals that Kyoko believed she saw were all indeed real – but they weren't simply flower petals that magically emerged, but the sakura-themed aura of Moe Habana.

"Here's the clincher!" She declared with optimism, as she took the advantage with both hands, and started to enact the finale of the battle with what she had next.

With transparent petals of sakura surging through her fists, Moe started to spin like a helicopter as she comboed and juggled Kyoko across the room.

It culminated in a leaping spin that uppercutted Cosplayer Kyoko nearly the whole way up to the ceiling – 'the finale of the battle' seemed about right in terms of the move's power against the powerless cosplayer; as Kyoko dropped down onto her back, it was clear that she was close to unconscious before she hit the floor, from her eyes closed shut.

 **WINNER: Moe Habana**

* * *

The winner of the battle landed gracefully from the spiraling finish, and everything stood in silence for a moment as the first battle of the tournament met a decisive end.

"How was that, ma'am?" Moe turned her head towards Elisabeth, welcoming criticism regarding that match. "We didn't disappoint too much with that match, did we?"

Reflecting on words said earlier, Elisabeth knew the expectations weren't particularly high for a fight involving someone that _doesn't_ fight. "I've seen odder bouts," she said, "but I'm glad it's out of the way now rather than later. It's far from your fault, anyways..."

As the noblewoman walked ahead, past Moe, she began to stand over the KO'd cosplayer. "Clearly you were not meant to be here – but you had the determination to at least try."

Elisabeth turned her head towards Chizuru. "Make sure she's comfortable when she comes to." The hostess' next focus was clear, as she then directly addressed the other competitors. "As for anyone who expected more – we _will_ have one more bout right here, right now."

The first participant of the next match was decided by the noblewoman fairly quickly. "Mignon Beart!"

The salmon-pink haired witch was tending to Cosplayer Kyoko on the ground when her attention turned towards Elisabeth. Her expression resembled a kitten being mesmerized by a cat toy which, considering how she modeled her 'well-crafted' fighting style, was an odd fit.

Mignon sprung up from her crouched position, meeting eye-to-eye with Elisabeth. "Oh my gosh – you're really giving Mignon her due?"

Elisabeth explained, "I've heard you're a prospect in white-mage magic – I'm interested in seeing it in person."

Being given the opportunity to showcase what she considered her best got Mignon very giddy. "Ohmygosh thankyouthankyouthankyou! You won't be disappointed!"

Hearing the cacophonous excitement and feeling the extremely tight embrace of the good witch around her body almost made Elisabeth very regretful for giving the young girl the spotlight at this starting phase of the tournaments. It also wasn't helping that Mignon was nearly burying her face front-and-center in Elisabeth's bosom during this hug, right in front of just about everyone else.

Thankfully, the hug wasn't for too much longer, as Mignon noticed what was yet to be addressed for her match and had to check her optimism at the door for a moment. "Wait... who's my opponent?"

Elisabeth kept her expression neutral as she adjusted her jacket. "If you're done expressing your gratitude to me, I'll gladly let you find out for yourself." She withdrew the riding crop from her side and handled it with precision as she scoped out the rest of the sizable roster with a slow and anticipating pace.

She eventually stopped on the one certain character of choice. "You."

Without hesitation, Mignon's opponent sprung out into the center of the room with a literally-electrical force trailing by her. The clownishly-colored Sylvie Paula Paula didn't need to wait long for her time to shine! "Hello-hello~!"

This was her first time meeting the electrokinetic oddity head-on, and already Mignon was expecting something _weird_ out of this matchup...

* * *

 _* 'Haruna', Cosplayer Kyoko's last name, is a reference to Haruna Ikezawa, the voice actress for Kyoko from when she first appeared as a striker in KOF 2000 - at least that's what the SNK wiki said, I don't know if she appeared elsewhere._

 **With each and every chapter, I keep wanting to go for 5K words or more with what I expect to do – and then I decide at the last moment, after 2 to 3 thousand, I'm like "Yeah alright, I guess I can just push the next scene to the next chapter."**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoyed whatever holidays you celebrated earlier this week, and since this is more than likely my last thing posted for FFN until the new year arrives in just a couple days, I'll see you in 2019!**


	8. R1: Mignon Beart vs Sylvie Paula Paula

**In case you're wondering, I don't have a New Year Resolution for 2019. Why? Because who the hell is able to keep those resolutions? Besides, if I said "Work more on my fanfictions", it'd probably motivate me _less_ to do them.**

 **Anyways, enjoy.**

* * *

 **OPENING ROUND – FIGHT #2  
** **Mignon Beart vs. Sylvie Paula Paula**

Well, this was an interesting turn-around; the first match was between two girls who were comparatively normal against most of the more personalized characters of the roster.

 _This_ match was between two young ladies with _too much_ personality and color to handle – more than half of it belonging to their costumes.

As already initially addressed, Mignon was feeling weirded out by the bizarre look of the singer / electricity aficionado / overall weirdo in Sylvie. It was hard to pick out just one individual factor in her opponent's attire; the patterns akin to clown vomit spread out on her skirt, the coat of fuzzy blonde hair spread down and about, and by god, the eye accessories – just those big plastic eyes hanging down over both ears, wide, miscolored, inanimate and forever staring, were just plain unsettling.

Although while Mignon was looking on at her opponent with a slight feeling of uncomfortableness deep in her stomach, Sylvie gandered back with maybe _too_ much intrigue. "Ooo~! That's a pretty bow-tie! Are you a magician?"

Mignon's gloved fists were half-clenched and loosening slightly as she hesitated to respond. "...Mignon _does_ do magic, if that's what you're wondering; do _you_ do magic, too?"

Sylvie giggled. "I've been known to provide some 'shock and awe' in the competition. Wanna find out what I mean?"

Mignon recognized the bits of eccentric electricity flowing through the opponent, and from that, she already felt she had an answer. However, her optimism to prove herself meant she had to focus, even if she had to bonk some sense into herself. "I've got to do this – for my ancestors, and for world peace!"

 _ **FIGHT!**_

Mignon began with an opportunistic run forward and a roaring squeal, "HRAAAAH~!" She looked to pounce with the ferocity of an angry cat to start things off – even though her footsteps were accompanied by some oddly cartoonish squeaks, she at least wanted to try her best to seem like a serious competitor.

However, this was followed up by her throwing herself forward and completely whiffing her pounce, smashing her face against the floor. Yikes.

In all fairness, she was locked in on Sylvie for the dive-in, but the NESTS reject seemed to just _hover_ up and out of her line of sight when it was too late to stop. It wasn't just an odd power of hers, however – Sylvie actually lifted herself up with the electricity flowing through her, and she was literally walking on lightning above everyone else for as long as she felt like it... which was for about four seconds before she dropped down.

"Yoo-hoo~! Over here!"

Thankfully, Mignon wasn't knocked out from her prat fall, as she got up on her knees and turned around. She only managed to get a light scrape on the side of her forehead and nothing else, and in terms of how she felt at the moment, she was a bit confused but still down to attack.

Mignon ran again and this time went for an attack that reached higher, jumping up for a stomp down – but Sylvie limboed down underneath it, her wide fluff of hair dragging along the floor and nearly tripping up the salmon-pink witch as she did a power-slide.

Sylvie kept her kneeling position and bent herself backwards to look up (and upside-down) at Mignon. "My eyeballs say you should see this stuff coming!"

Mignon stomped a squeaky foot against the floor and pointed forward, attempting to assert herself. "Those eyes may be creepy, but I know they're just for show!" She ran once again and dropped down with a sliding kick that, unsurprisingly, also missed, as Sylvie's electrokinetic aura lifted her with enough force to allow her to perfectly reach Mignon's shoulders and lift herself up and over, landing right behind the witch.

Sylvie was starting to cuddle Mignon from behind, even fiddling with the cute red bow that she acknowledged earlier. "Come on, aren't you having fun with this?"

Mignon flailed her arms in frustration. " _THIS ISN'T FUN!_ "

For a moment, the magical witch had to struggle with Sylvie piggybacking on her for half a minute – following that, Sylvie suddenly sprung off and unleashed the first few 'legitimate' strikes of the bout with some bicycle kicks to the back of Mignon's head!

Mignon just barely retained her footing from the attack as she had to turn back around, retaining her sight on the surreal opponent with an increasing feeling of pure frustration and anger. "Rrrgh! Stop your dodging and take your beating, coward!"

Sylvie giggled mischievously. "Paula's just too quick for little miss Mignon!"

The glowing orbs on Mignon's wrist-guards shone with aggression as her easily-irritable mentality opened out into the fight. "Mignon will slow you down!" She was ready to counteract with powers of her own, as she did a full spin and flung her arms forward. " _Divine wind spirit!_ "

Upon the shout, a geyser of wind was flung right at Sylvie, and it threatened to mess with her balance as she stumbled slightly backwards – however, the most it did was give her a bit of a stagger against the wind, and a little waft of coldness in the midst of a hot afternoon.

"B _r_ r _r_ r _r_ – good one," Overall, Sylvie was barely affected for the most part by the 'wind spirit', "but the lighting comes after the wind— _ahh!_ "

The wind returned again, a bit stronger this time as Mignon threw multitudes of the wind spirit's power – Sylvie was at a further inconvenience, trying to walk through it all while shielding herself with her arms.

The handful of competitors standing behind Paula Paula during all of this weren't fairing much better, as they felt themselves being forced back slightly by the increasing wind.

"Well... we can't say she doesn't know how to build some intense gale winds..." Athena slightly struggled to speak as she guarded the rough winds that inadvertently affected the audience.

The strips of fabric out the back of Yuri's headband flapped like a flag in the breeze. "Jeez, how come I've never heard of this girl? She's giving a whole lot of us a bit of trouble with this stuff!"

From the other side of the circle, Malin could be heard again, " _Sucks to be you, doesn't it?_ "

Eventually, after a minute of struggling through the almost-hurricane fighting against her, Sylvie was able to get close enough to Mignon, to be able to grab her by the wrists and halt the frustrating winds – at the same time, the kinetic energy formed around her into more electricity, and through the creepy plastic eyes, it spread out against the opposition. "Bibibibiiii~!"

The currents of electricity splashed onto Mignon, giving her an uncomfortable shock all around to the point where all she could do was purr in pain and endure. Over time, it seemed like the aura of electricity was _growing_ and encircling the pink-haired witch – not only that, but was she being lifted into the air?!

Sylvie quipped happily, "Let's give you a nice ride!"

And to be fair, it could be considered a 'nice ride', as Sylvie had her fun with the bubble she encased Mignon in, swiveling it all around the zone like a small but fierce roller-coaster – but it wasn't exactly comfortable for the witch in peril, as each time she tumbled around against the radius of the orb, she felt the uncomfortable currents of the electricity itch against her.

Yes, Sylvie was having _way_ too much fun with this, singing happily as she started holding the electric bubble in one hand while marching and twirling before the makeshift audience. It was... difficult to figure out whether she was the favorite of the match, as with both characters in the fight being oddities of different strokes, there was a lot to love and hate about both. For the most part, they all watched in intrigue.

Love Heart pondered the situation she was witnessing. "Gotta say – this girl is really good at taking control of a match."

Lien's arms were crossed as she was among the only few who were smiling up at Mignon's distress. "Good – maybe when she drops that little witch brat, she breaks a few bones."

Nakoruru was standing alongside Love, as usual, for this match. "Don't you think that's a bit harsh?"

Lien scoffed. "Like I give a shit." She knew more about Mignon from experience than about 90% of the other competitors.

At the moment, Sylvie was giving a thankful bow to the audience as she starting to wind down her little act of 'funsies'. "I'll be here all day for your entertainment, girls!" She was about to throw the electro-bubble down in a moment, but she started to recognize that it was quaking a little in the palm of her hand. Maybe it was growing unstable due to its size?

Or maybe it was because it was inexplicably overflowing with water – water called upon by the spirits that Mignon looked upon for her blessed witch powers. Sure, the witch was risking almost drowning herself, but she was going for what was a surprisingly smart move, trying to break free with anything in her arsenal that would prove useful.

And it succeeded! The electric mass bursted, and as the water spilled down atop Sylvie like a hard spurt of stormy weather, so did Mignon, as she came down at a freefall and her body slammed down onto Sylvie's with significant force.

Both women were down on the floor, and for a moment, they both seemed absolutely out of it...

...However, long before it could potentially be called as a draw, Mignon slowly rolled herself off of her opponent's body, holding her gut in a moaning pain. It didn't seem like she was going to get up by herself, so help was needed from a couple of the other competitors. "Mnnnngh, that hurt...!"

She'd be lucky not to have broken a rib – having another person break your fall was never going to feel like landing on a comfy pillow, even if Sylvie's hair seemed like otherwise.

Speaking of, the electrically-charged girl with the garish costume seemed to be in the twilight of a water-triggered malfunction. In short, it didn't seem like she was going to get back up for a little while.

In the eyes of the tournament's hostess, this was more than enough to call the match at that. "Well... I guess that settles it," said Elisabeth.

 **Winner: Mignon Beart**

* * *

Given those involved in the match, there wasn't exactly a favorite to the majority going in – the initial impression of the two matched up to the minimum fanfare when it ended. In short, there were a few that hated this outcome, and even less who were truly positive about Mignon's win.

Nagase sighed in mild discontent. "Well, shit – the one time I want to see the clown win, it doesn't happen. Ah well, at least she'll be easy pickings for you, eh, Lien?" She gave Lien a pat on the back, a bit of quote-unquote 'good luck'.

It didn't budge the catsuited assassin's stoic expression at all. "After this tournament's over, I'm going to kill her."

Nagase shrugged. "Good luck with that."

Lien's death-glare turned. "And then _you_."

Then Nagase's hand stopped grazing the fellow assassin's back. "...Fair enough, but still, _fuck you._ "

As for the tournament as it currently stood following the first two fights, things seemed about ready to wind down for a little bit.

"We will proceed with the rest of the first-round matches in a few minutes," Elisabeth announced. "You will have a deadline of five minutes to reach the appointed combat zone when you're called to action. However, for now, you're dismissed."

The 30 other competitors slowly started to make their separate ways away from the foyer. Eventually, the room was nearly empty aside from Elisabeth, Chizuru, the KO'd Sylvie and the two who at this point had advanced to Round 2 – Moe Habana and Mignon Beart

Habana adjusted the sweater tied around her waist. "So, uh... I guess _maybe_ we'll meet next round?" She reached out for a handshake...

...and Mignon accepted eagerly. "Hmm, maybe." Her other arm was hanging low by her stomach, still a bit pained from the end of that match.

Standing in between the two, Elisabeth gave her thoughts on the matter. "I wouldn't necessarily guarantee it – but I'll allow you two to remain optimistic about it."

Moe made her way up the center staircase – on the other half, Mignon seemed like she was about to follow suit, but with the damage she accumulated, she went up a couple steps and then decided to just sit down in the middle, keeping the arm held around her gut.

Aside from that, there was something else fresh on her mind at the moment – the condition of her defeated opponent. Being someone who is all for creating a peaceful Earth, Mignon was one to be somewhat worrisome when seeing just about anyone look so broken and practically lifeless. Sylvie may have been a total psycho in a way, but in the end,

Mignon asked, "She's going to be okay, right?" Like Elisabeth said earlier in the day, killing a competitor was pretty much forbidden in the tournament. Even if it was a accident, something like that happening with her involvement had Mignon worried for not just her spot in the tourney, but herself in general.

Elisabeth assured, "She'll be fine. She's still breathing, I can tell." She turned to her right. "Miss Kagura, as you were – please make sure she recovers well."

"Right..." Chizuru nodded and started to tend to the loser of the match. The electric residue and the puddled water still remained as a consistent surrounding Sylvie's body, but it was nothing that could really hurt the priestess. She simply got a hold of Sylvie's arms and tried to carefully get her out of the way...

...but Sylvie's hands tightened in turn.

Well, the good news was that Sylvie was very much okay after how the match turned out on her half, but the bad news—well, maybe she was all _too_ okay if the revived aura of electricity said anything.

What started as relief at first from the three in witness slowly and gradually turned into worry and then into fear as Sylvie rose back to her feet like some sort of battery-charged zombie.

That twinkle in her eye was nothing to scoff at – and neither was her creepy-happy expression. "Surpr _iiiii_ ise~!"

Ah well, no need to worry – they'd just need to calm her down and make sure she didn't unleash anything from that shock-ball that was slowly getting bigger and bigger— _aw fuck._

It wasn't just a simple ball of energy meant to shock, – pun intended – it was the size of one of those big bouncy exercise balls. Unfortunately, it was probably going to do a lot more than bounce with minimal damage.

Chizuru had long before let go her grip on Sylvie and was too taken aback by the power being shown before her, and Mignon was on the brink of nearly pissing herself – the only one who seemed ready to stand their ground was Elisabeth, who looked like she was not going to have any of Sylvie's crazy bullshit today.

Elisabeth demanded, "Sylvie, behave yourself! The match is over – you _lost!_ "

Sylvie had spaced out pretty much everything around her in terms of listening, outside of the crackling of electricity that was music to her ears. She didn't get the memo in regards to her match against Mignon – to her, there probably _wasn't_ one to get, and she damn sure wasn't going to look around and see the lack of an audience when her focus was on 'finishing off the opponent'. She added to this incoming attack with a dissonant quip. "Think it's about time Paula gives this fight a grand finale!"

About time to mention that 'fight or flight' situation again, because 'flight' didn't seem like an option for Elisabeth when regardless of what she did next, it could prove less harm to the tournament if she decided to fight back than if she did nothing at all. She already had a surge of light coursing through her left arm – maybe that would work...

...but then she sensed something... something that was about to drop from above and behind.

"Watch out!" The noblewoman suddenly got a hold of Chizuru and Mignon with one arm draping around one of them, and they all got down low.

Sylvie was a little puzzled by the development but barely budged. Then she looked up and to the left – unfortunately for her, the big orb of electricity almost completely covered her view ahead, and all she could really make out was a growing fade of green mixing into the orb... and then it all quite literally blew up in her face.

The reject went flying across the room, smacking hard against the front doors and then sliding down until she was face-up on the floor, a mess of soot, excess electrokinetic energy and green embers spaced out on her hair, clothes and pretty much everywhere else. "This isn't fun anymore," Sylvie disappointedly moaned before she faded into near-unconsciousness again, hopefully for a while longer.

It was safe for certain that Elisabeth, Chizuru and Mignon were all thinking 'What the FUCK just happened?' at the moment – it was up for _someone_ to say something and shed some insight on what exactly happened... but it wasn't any of the three ladies who received the responsibility in doing so.

" _You should really keep a tight grip on your competitors, Betty..._ "

That feminine-except-not tone rang back into Elisabeth's head for the second ( _and most definitely NOT the last_ ) time today. She looked up alongside those beside her.

Ash, once again sharing the scene with the noblewoman, sat on the railing, at the top of the stairs, with a swirl of green flames held within his fingers. "Otherwise, you're gonna be dealing with a lot more of that." He let the flame disperse as he decided to exit the scene on that line. Not really any need to stick around for longer – there _was_ a tournament starting around him, and in this case, he was better off being a spectator.

Elisabeth's stare lingered as she saw her 'friend' leave; if she wasn't already feeling relieved that she and her peers weren't zapped to kingdom come, she would've followed him down and slapped some sense into him for even getting involved.

Chizuru didn't really have anything in terms of a comment to what just happened, so she set her priorities on better things after a hesitant catch of breath. "...I'll go tend to Sylvie. You two, just go on ahead."

"Might as well," Elisabeth said. "No point dealing with the headache now." She started to head up the stairs when she felt a tug on her jacket.

Mignon, sprawled against the stairs like a nervous kitten, seemed a little shook from the situation that transpired, and had questions. "Pardon me for asking, but... who _was_ that?"

"Just a friend." That was about as nicely as Elisabeth could put it at this stage of her relationship.

Mignon then commented, "He makes me uncomfortable."

"Don't worry about it. He tends to do that."

Elisabeth then continued her saunter up to the upper floor of the mansion, to continue forward with the tournament.

Good for her to continue on with business in the sight of such interesting but unwarranted events. To her, there were certainly better things on the mind than dealing with degenerates.

* * *

 **I don't really have any hints for what matches will come next chapter – I know them, but I'd prefer to see you guys speculate about what matches you'd like to see, and your favorites going in.**

 **Until next time!**


	9. R1: Love Heart vs Bonne Jenet

**I'm gonna be honest, it's kinda interesting, the match in this chapter, since Love Heart is from an IP that _technically_ is no longer an SNK property since they sold _Sky Love_ to some other company. Meh, she'll still count as an SNK character in my book since she was in _Tag Team Frenzy_ (she's getting nixed from the artbook though, it looks like). In this instance though, it's kinda like how the ARIKA-made characters from Street Fighter EX could _technically_ be considered Capcom characters at heart despite no longer being involved in Capcom stuff.**

 **Eh, anyways, enjoy.**

* * *

As planned, minutes following the past couple matches, the third bout of the round was arranged to take place within an expansive room, one that looked like it could work for a couples' dance get-together. It was _half_ -relevant to the analogy towards the tournament, at least...

 **OPENING ROUND – FIGHT #3  
** **Love Heart vs. Bonne Jenet**

The upcoming fight shared a common theme between the two ladies, both choosing the life of piracy and taking different directions with how they chose to live it.

B. Jenet, the seductive degenerate, let her eyes roam up and down on the raspberry-red apparel of the opponent. "Well-well... that's an interesting costume you got on you."

The freedom-fighter in Love Heart seemed a bit confused. "Costume?" She scoffed. "I don't know if you've heard, but I'm a captain in my world – all this isn't just for show, it's a sign of an important hero."

"Lovely," Jenet responded. "Well, in _this_ world, you're kind of an odd one out here."

Love retorted back, "Doesn't seem like you intend to conform to the usual standards, either – I would've been mistaken in thinking you were a sleazy escort."

Jenet took the insult lightly – if she had a dollar for every time someone implied she was 'sleazy' or an 'escort... well, she'd probably steal for more than what she would get since it wouldn't be enough. "You wouldn't exactly look out of place alongside a stripper pole either, honey."

The self-proclaimed 'queen' of the Lillien Knights was certainly stirring a mean pot against Love, and the sky protector was about ready to shut the blonde bombshell up in retaliation. "Alright – time to shut you up...!"

 _ **FIGHT!**_

Love took the early lead in the spar as she leveled Jenet with a hard knee to the gut, and continued to put the boots to the blonde maverick as a capitalization to the first attack. However, Jenet seemed ready to take some damage early on, and was okay with holding up defense and as she roughly shoved Love back to force some distance.

Jenet provoked Love's aggressive motive in the fight with a high-heel kick that threatened to pierce, while simultaneously giving heed to a bit of the distance game. This further escalated as Jenet unleashed some forceful winds, not unlike the previous bout of the tourney, with a fling of the wrist and had Love sliding a few feet further back.

Love grunted, "Nngh... these winds are strong..."

"You prefer the skies, right? You should be used to this kind of stuff!" Jenet taunted.

Love wasn't going to take this zone-out sitting down – she spiraled herself forward with a front flip finishing into her driving her heel down towards the floor, with intention to clonk B. Jenet right upside the head.

The British bombshell avoided, however, leaving Love to bring her foot against only the ground, with enough force to actually leave a crack in the flooring. Love attempted with another attack to follow up, leaping up into the air and spiraling back down with the force of a piercing arrow.

Jenet continued to escape the arsenal, however, by evading further backwards against the wall. Love Heart's rough landings continued to leave more damage to the floor than anything else, but she seemed determined to take down whatever opponent stood in her way, for the sake of the skies.

Jenet recognized the wall that she was gradually approaching her back against, and decided on a whim to use it to her advantage; she sprung herself up and off it, gliding over and handling Love, and then flipping her over with an underarm throw that brought them closer to the center of the wide and mostly-empty room. As a result, Love stumbled and nearly slammed herself face-first against the floor as she lost her footing off the up-and-over throw.

This left her occupied long enough for Jenet to continue taunting. "Maybe I'm just too quick for you, eh?"

After a moment of recovery, Love had her palms against the floor as she pushed herself back up, and it transitioned suddenly into a handspring front flip that was intended to drop down into an axe kick.

Keeping up the defense that she managed to hold well enough to remain relatively healthy throughout so far, Jenet braced the walloping kick with her arms in front of her face. Once again, it seemed like she was prepared for a good load of strikes.

She was definitely not prepared for _everything_ that Love had, however, as with the only sign heading into it being a brief glow of light, she panicked and evaded as she saw something slash towards her way. That evasion _may_ have been a bit too late, since as she stepped back, Jenet saw that there was a significant tear in her purple dress, right below the area of fabric around her breasts. Whatever the slashing attack was didn't draw any sort of a cut on the skin underneath, but it did give a slight bit of an underboob window, one that the Pirate Queen considered unwarranted.

Then she glanced up to Love, and took a lingering look at the sword glimmering in a golden aura that was resting in the opponent's hand. At that moment, Jenet lost focus on her anger towards the freedom fighter for trying to mess with her fashionable looks, and now she was starting to question what she got herself into. "Uhhhh..."

"Did that surprise you?" said Love Heart. "Good – now I know you aren't ready." She charged forward with the glowing blade in her hands raising up over her head for a strike that could potentially strike harder than the last.

"Oh _shit!_ " Jenet had to act quickly, or else get knocked down a notch.

The next few slashes from Love came swift and calculated, but Jenet just barely avoided them without a grazing cut on any more of her body. The dodging was all spontaneous for her, prompted only by the danger of the sword swinging against her.

After about six potential hits from Love's gilded broadsword thoroughly avoided, Jenet crouched low as she had figured out a bit of a plan on the fly. She didn't have much on her person ( _and she didn't necessarily wear all that much either_ ), but she needed to counter-act with _something_...

On Love's eventual seventh slash, it was actually blocked this time around – because Jenet had just taken off one of her high heels and had somehow halted the sword on the swing down.

Even with the use of part of her attire to successfully guard the incoming attack, it was still a struggle for Jenet to keep pushing against the weapon of the opposition. "I'm not going down like that! The Knights are counting on me to make them proud!"

Love said, "I've got allies of my own, too! They might not be watching down on me, but I wouldn't want to disappoint them, either!"

Jenet retorted back, "Well, you aren't exactly _meant_ to be here... and in the thick of it all... I'm... _honestly_ _running out of things to say_ , so instead, I'll just do this~!"

With the heel and the sword raised up sky-high above the two, Jenet thrust herself forward, her face gradually speeding towards Love Heart's up until the point where their lips suddenly crashed together. The last thing someone would expect from a fight would be a straight-up kiss between those fighters – even from that, it was clearly mind games against the sky-lover, as Love eventually sprung back after a few seconds of lip-lock, coming out of it with a face flushed out in a brief red blush, and then seconds after _that_ , a re-heeled foot catching her up the jaw.

Like mentioned here and there, Love Heart preferred the skies, but not in the way as she found herself now, being comboed into the air with spiralling, somewhat windy kicks from the blonde Brit in Bonne Jenet. The attack was nearly taken straight through the ceiling of the room, but took a full-stop in the air before touching it.

"Say good night, sweetie!" With a wink and a blowing smooch, Jenet unleashed a tangible projectile in the shape of a heart – ironically turning against it being a symbol of love, it was intended to give out one last good hit against the opponent.

On the other hand, Love still had her sword handled within one hand, and realized her one last chance to defend herself, take control and hopefully win the match. "Not just yet!" She slashed at what was in front of her, slicing the heart-shaped projectile in half and, at the same time, knocking Jenet off-guard for a chance to follow-up.

" _Ah bugger..._ " Jenet's thoughts were very clear once she felt the momentum trailing ahead of the slash smack her in the chest and leave her groggy in midair.

Love briefly twirled her sword before handling it in both her hands... " _Senkuu_..." Then she lunged forward through the air at a swift speed and didn't stop even as she passed her opponent, and her sword slashed past Jenet's body, " _Buster Sword!_ "

Gravity's absence came to an end as they both came down from the air; Love landed on her feet and her sword evaporated out of the fight, while Jenet landed with quite the opposite sort of precision, crashing down to the floor, nearly on her neck. The reckless blonde must've felt lucky that Love seemed to set her sword to 'stun', because otherwise the room would be a bit more of a mess and Jenet would be _much_ less alive ( _and Elisabeth wouldn't want that, now would she?_ ).

 **WINNER: Love Heart**

* * *

B. Jenet was absolutely out of commission, laying face-down / ass-up on the floor ( _probably not for the first time_ ) and still somewhat conscious. Regardless of whether or not she was truly KO'd in the bout, however, there was no easy way to get up from that.

Love Heart stood over her defeated opponent. "I mean what I said – you just aren't ready to face someone like me, kid." She brought a foot to Jenet's side and shoved lightly to flip her over on her back.

Jenet groaned, "Ugh... for someone named 'Love', it doesn't seem like you're all up for it..."

Love retorted, "Those were mind games and you know it. You can't just pull something like that and expect it to give you the complete advantage."

Jenet chuckled with a weakened but still particularly cocky demeanor. "Pirates can do whatever the fuck they want. You oughta learn all that down here."

"Appreciate the suggestion," said Love, "but I think I'm fine doing what _I_ do best."

"Ugh, whatever."A pained B. Jenet rolled over on her side – she could really use the rest after that wild fight. "I need a drink. You buyin'?"

"Sorry – I don't share my time with troublesome ladies like you." Straightening her hat, Love Heart made it clear she was not one to align in any way with someone so significantly less heroic in their motives.

She made her leave from the room, the third to advance to the second round thus far, and Jenet was to herself soon enough, left the battered mess that she found herself becoming.

The competition was no joke, and it was full of surprises – some we've seen, and some to come...

* * *

 **Next Chapter: In the next match, Yuri goes about throwing her ass in someone's face like she usually does. Enough said.**


	10. R1: Yuri Sakazaki vs Arina Makihara

"Ugh."

"What? What's wrong?"

Malin was staring straight at the one of several sparsely-located TVs spread around the mansion – the match had ended a minute ago, and as it indicated the next matchup to happen within the coming minutes, there was only one of those two that was on her mind. "Yuri's up next."

Athena rolled her eyes; she was growing a little annoyed with her former one-off partner. "Seriously? You're still all bent up on her?"

"For a reason."

"That reason kinda doesn't give you the right to clown around her and her family's business all the time – to no avail, either..."

" _She's_ the one trying to clown on _me_ for how I fight! Thinks I'm some sort of coward or some crap..."

"What you do with your fighting style, it's all your own business, Malin. On the bright side, Ms. Blanctorche's letting you use them freely... or at least, as freely as we all hope you can without accidentally decapitating someone." 'Accidentally' being spoken loosely in this case, as Athena had _no_ idea of _how far_ the young rebel was willing to go for the W.

"Yeah... she thinks she knows what she's doing making weapons as legal as a shin kick, but behind that shitty little ascot, she was probably scared to try and tie me down." By this point, Malin was gazing up and down the razor-wire string of her 'deadly' and unorthadox yo-yo. "Total tool. Her friend on the other hand..."

"Which friend? You mean Chizuru?"

"No – _Ash_."

All Athena could do was tilt her head in confusion. "...he's not even here...?"

"Nah, I've seen him, hanging around on the sidelines," Malin responded. "You've seen the type of shit he could do, right? God _damn_ – I know a bad boy when I see one, and I fuckin' love 'em."

Athena was starting to feel even more lost for words than before, listening to Malin's open and proud thoughts. "...Huh. Well... I think I'd better get ready in case my match comes up soo—"

"Could you imagine getting with that guy on a more physical level?" Unfortunately for the fighting pop idol, Malin was gazing up into the ceiling, far too deep into her forming thoughts about her flame-flinging crush to stop it at that. "I'm thinkin' I'm a sucker for punishment, and I'd be all for being choked and pounded into submission – especially if he lets me choke myself on his nice, big co-"

"Malin!" When the blonde little rascal glanced back, she saw a bit of an irritated blush across Athena's face. "Please, just... keep your fantasies within, okay?"

Malin naturally took this as just Athena being unable to handle the matter of 'full penetration'. Ah well, she was starting to take her business elsewhere anyways... "Hmm, whatever. _Virgin._ "

The nerve of her to imply anything about her former partner, and herself by proxy – wasn't like there was anybody close enough to Malin to back up the implication that she had banged before Athena did. It was probably best for the Psycho Soldier to just take that word and the insult along with it, however, as she shrugged it off and put her focus on the TV screen near her.

Another battle was being set, and it was more than likely not one to be missed...

* * *

 **OPENING ROUND – FIGHT #4  
** **Yuri Sakazaki vs. Arina Makihara**

As previously mentioned, it was the karate-tested prodigy child's time to shine. Yuri was getting in some last-minute stretches while waiting for her opponent, as the natural light beaming from the window to the side brought a bit of a glossy shimmer to her form-fitting leggings.

The scenery of selection for this bout was different from the wide room of the last, being somewhat narrower as it was at the corner end of a long hallway. This meant the walls were going to be a little bit more of a problem, since they were given only so much room to work with, but it was barely anything for the young ladies set for action.

Yuri only stopped her little patient exercise when she heard the panting of a weary girl a few feet from where she stood.

Her opponent, the bunny-eared Arina, may have spent a bit too much of her starting stamina just getting to the zone of battle. "I don't think I can get used to this," she said.

"Not one to travel around all that much, huh?" Yuri asked.

Arina responded, "I'm not someone to get there _on time_... but I'm here now! Let's do this!"

"Got my warm-ups out of the way anyways," Yuri said as her outstretched leg slid down from the windowsill. "Time to whoop some butt!"

 _ **FIGHT!**_

Both girls set out on the distance game, only drawing closer to each other with slight and careful footsteps. At points during the starting minute of the bout, Yuri stretched a leg out towards Arina, almost akin to a kick without the striking force, to try and urge the less-experienced towards some attempting blows of her own.

It didn't lead to much, however, until when they started to link up with what was basically half of a test-of-strength – hand in hand, glove in glove, regardless of the experience difference, it was all on even standing to start off. They eventually broke away and clashed the back of their hands against each other, and Arina was the first to strike individually with a swinging kick that swiped high and missed as Yuri ducked. Yuri went for a kick of her own, a back-spin roundhouse that was dodged just as easily by her opponent.

When Yuri chose to lunge forward, Arina found herself an evasive action and hopped over, sneaking up low on the Kyokugen student with a sliding kick to the ankle. Yuri lost her balance rather quickly off that choice strike she took to the back of her foot, falling right on her back and unintentionally allowing Arina a chance to drop a leg down against her face.

Yuri did her best to maintain high momentum on her offense, kipping up to her feet mere seconds later and retaliating with a sweep kick that Arina just barely managed to avoid with a light hop that left her struggling slightly with her balance. Yuri was willing to take up any opportunity that was even only slightly open, as she threw a fist forward against Arina's side, and then delivered two more direct punches to her chest and then a kick slightly higher up against her face.

Arina stumbled onto her knees, having to adjust the goggles on her head after they were left crooked by the kick she just took.

"Might want to keep a close eye on how you land," Yuri suggested. Almost seemed like a taunting provocation from how she sounded, though.

Yuri then leapt back into close quarters with a front flip into a dive-kick that barely connected when Arina rolled back a slight. The bunny-girl quickly got back to her feet and lured Yuri into a brief combo, starting with a couple spinning kicks and then sending the karate girl stumbling with some hip-to-hip bumpage.

"Taste the stars!" With a fling of her index finger, Arina threw an appropriately star-shaped projectile at her opponent.

Not quite the fastest projectile, however, as Yuri had time, even if not much, to counter it in more ways than one. " _Saiha_!" She brought her palms forward, with energy forming into an orb that blocked out Arina's projectile. She wound back one arm from the power still held in her other hand, and then thrusted it forward like an open-handed punch.

" _Ko-Ou Ken_!" Yuri's energy projectile flew forward at a slightly faster speed than what was flung at her, and Arina had to block it with her arms, to some degree of defensive success. Arina stumbled against the window behind her, and glanced on for a moment longer as Yuri ran forward.

"How about you taste _this_!?" Yuri shouted as she faced backwards and flung herself forwards – her rear stuck out in front, she was intending to ram into her opposition hard with one of her most intriguing maneuvers.

Arina was kind of in a panic at the moment, and after some seconds to think, she decided on a whim to fight booty with booty and hurled herself forward in an identical fashion.

In a nearly symmetrical clash, Arina and Yuri smashed into each other, ass to ass, and a shockwave of relative pain sprung between them, almost seeming like an actual shockwave quaking in the hall. They fell to the ground together, sharing a literal case of 'butt-hurt' as they laid down inches from each other and writhed momentarily. They'd both better be lucky neither of them came out of that clash with a shattered tailbone.

Yuri grunted with gritted teeth as she started to roll over onto her stomach. "Ungh... you do the butt-bump, too...?"

Arina had one eye squinted shut from the ache as she similarly rolled over in her recovery. "Yeah... didn't know _you_ did it, too..."

Two butts thought alike in this match – and that was quite the way to put it, wasn't it?

As the two slowly got back to their feet, Arina tried to get the quick takedown on Yuri, clinging onto the Kyokugen student's legs for dear life. Yuri shook off the attempted low-down assault and shoved off the bunny-eared girl before bringing down an overhead kick upside Arina's head and then shoving her against a wall with a follow-up kick to the gut.

Although she was sliding down the wall in a fatigued struggle, Arina was head-strong and full of that sweet firey valor. She kept Yuri back with a couple kicks when she tried to get up close with her, and completely prepared to bring as much of her fighting spirit as she had left after the struggles that ensued up to this moment in the fight.

With a sort of orange aura trailing by her ( _an indication of the Waku ball power she was associated with_ ), Arina hopped ahead and sent herself forward with a firey lunge at Yuri... who quickly dodged and left Arina to smash herself into the wall, and nearly through that window. Well, that certainly went nowhere for her, now did it?

It was about to go even further away from what she hoped for, as Yuri was more than ready to put an end to the fight real quick. " _Haoh..._ " Eager to dump a heavy amount of her fighting energy on something that was pretty much guaranteed to bring the pain, charged and held her strength in her hands... " _...Shoukou Ken!_ " ...and she fired away, unleashing a much heavier version of the projectile she tossed moments before.

Arina was left with her face against a wall from the high-risk move she missed, and she was unable to see what was coming after her following that. Just as she started to back herself away, the large fireball that Yuri threw sent Arina crashing back against that wall...

...and then it all came crumbling around her, as she found herself falling _through_ as the wall broke through and sent her flying out of the building.

The Haoh Shoukou Ken certainly proved effective; _too_ effective, it seemed like, as Yuri looked on with completely genuine shock at the wall that was no longer there – it and the window were reduced to debris, while Arina was pretty much knocked out of the scene, and at this point, the tournament as a whole.

 **WINNER: Yuri Sakazaki**

* * *

Yuri may have gotten a decisive – and rather destructive – win, but it wasn't quite what she expected. That and she _may_ have totally fucked up in many ways more than one, considering that she may have not only badly hurt someone that she doesn't know, but also commit destruction of property against _the hostess of this tournament_.

She walked up to the open hole in the hallway and glanced down. "Uh... are you okay?"

Thankfully, there was a lot of grass and some bushes where the hole was broken through in the mansion, so Arina had _some_ cushioning on the way down. Although drizzled with scattered debris and shattered glass, she was still capable of giving a dazed thumbs-up.

"Ahh, thank god," Yuri sighed, half-relieved, while the other half of her was still pretty scared about being potentially penalized. Before it got too awkward to stick around, she slowly scampered away from the scene; she may have advanced to the second round of this ladies' tournament, but at a bit of an odd cost.

Now she had to figure out how she was going to be able to explain and apologize about the whole ' _sorry for blowing a hole in your mansion_ ' ordeal with the minimal amount of punishment being dealt to her – and Elisabeth was _not_ one to easily forgive.

* * *

 **Next Chapter: One of the ladies of Hakkesshu prey upon their first victim in the tournament...**


	11. R1: Fiolina Germi vs Vice

**OPENING ROUND – FIGHT #5  
** **Fiolina Germi vs. Vice**

Fio's heart was beating in her throat as she stood alongside the two intersecting hallways that formed the combat zone decided. She didn't have much on herself in terms of weaponry; she had left behind her firearms for the sake of not carrying anything that could potentially kill someone – and thank god for that ruling, since she wasn't all that big on killing anyone unless they truly deserved it.

A fighting tournament was not the first thing to come to mind when it came to the types of missions the young Italian was most suited for. Espionage, strategy, tactical missions were more up her alley – legitimate fights, of the hand-to-hand variety, were not her strong suit.

She had to make it through as much of this tournament as she could, and considering who she had been put against in the first round, it would do wonderfully for her, but especially Leona, to accomplish this win. However, given who she was going to face off against, she'd have to go through hell and back to get even a grasp of a victory...

Fio peeked around the corner, and although she'd love to admit, her eyes were not betraying her mind – Vice and Mature, the cruel beauties, were just a few feet away from her sight, biding their time. She was unsure whether to hazard a guess or not on what exactly they were likely talking about, but it was probably a guarantee they were plotting on what horrific methods they might've been considering against the young soldier. Vice was the one most on Fio's mind, however, as the ruthless redhead was the opponent that was decided for her.

Kind of a frightening situation given all the variables placed together, but she wasn't going to let that cloud her thoughts – if she managed the first strike in the fight, it'd spell out good things for her for the rest of it.

When Fio glanced back around the corner, Vice and Mature almost looked absolutely lost in each other's eyes – she was certain they were inches away from sucking down each others' tongues with how much implied sensual aura there seemed to be... although her worries were still around, as she felt as if Vice's eyes lingered towards her general direction on the last glance-over.

The morbid curiosity was beckoning the military girl's attention, as if it was aware that she was still a fairly young and inexperienced person.

One more look...?

 _Just to be sure...?_

The answer escaped her as soon as she felt a hand grappling tightly against her throat.

 _Fuck_ curiosity.

 _ **FIGHT...!**_

Fio almost couldn't breathe as her neck was handled with a reckless clutch, and the claw-like nails were almost enough to draw blood from the indenting wounds digging into her.

On the other hand, it was unsurprising how much Vice was enjoying seeing her foe squirm and strain as she dragged her closer and closer. Mature too found enjoyment, closely witnessing her partner start to get into action.

"Silly girl," Mature taunted, her sultry tone sounding disharmonious. "Didn't your parents tell you not to peep?"

Vice's tongue traveled excitedly within her mouth as she joined in on the taunts. "Girls these days – just can't seem to resist, can they?"

For Fio, the first strike was long gone for her, and she had to act soon, or else endure something even worse. Already bad enough that the 'no killing' rule in the tournament left her with only had a fraction of the weapons she arrived with for the sake of being safe, but the oxygen she was not getting left her less capable of thinking out a quick counter.

However, she did have one thing in mind... Fio dug into one of her pockets and unveiled a grenade of some sort, tearing off the pin and rolling it across the hall. Vice noticed the grenade rolling forward and knocked it away with her other hand, intending to pass it right back to the opponent. Her first immediate thought was that Fio had no right to expect to blast away the competition so easily – if it meant causing her death, what the fuck ever...

However, rather than a brief but harsh explosion, the secretaries of Orochi witnessed an eruption of smoke that spread across about half of the hallway, including where they stood.

" _Military shitbag_ ," Vice grumbled, annoyed with the smoke fog that spread further than they expected.

She had let her snake-like arm retract at the moment she rolled the grenade back, and by now she and her partner had a bit of trouble seeing through the smoke. The most that _could_ be seen of the opposition was the slight of her silhouette, which was staring to get up and _charge forward—_

Fio tackled Vice to the ground, making up for her lingering eyes by taking her on with the next head-on strike. She sped around behind her, and attempted to just plain choke her out, but Vice soon shook Fio off and tossed her to the ground with a vicious slam. Fio then quickly sprung back, and smacked Vice on the side of her face with her boots crashing up and forward.

Vice stumbled against the wall, almost smashing her back as she fell to a near-seated position and spat out a splatter of blood. "You little fucking twerp," she grunted. "Don't you know who you're messing with?"

Fio's fears from earlier were starting to fade away now that she at least managed a good couple of strikes. She was nearly _smiling_ against those fears... "I know what I'm doing – and hopefully Leona's gonna thank me if I take you creeps down!" She dug down behind her person and unveiled her twin tonfa – it could be considered an equalizer to the strengths of the dark that fueled the opposition.

Vice retorted with such snide, "How cute. You really think you can hold me back with a couple of sticks?"

Fio twirled her tonfas by the handles. "I dunno – you wanna find out?"

Vice retorted by whipping an arm ahead, stretching out against one of Fio's tonfas ( _specifically, her left arm_ ) and attempting to reel in again. Fio tried to shut down Vice's long-range grasp by bringing down the other tonfa against her forearm. Best case, it would cause something close to a fracture, but that case didn't really come true as Vice continued to retract the arm and bring Fio closer.

Fio decided next to try some athletic maneuvers, springing about in a cartwheel to twist against Vice's arm, but to little avail. Vice reacted with a blunt slap across Fio's face to stagger her, and lunged in closer, but she was continuously held back as Fio brought a tonfa towards her face, with the long end pretty much being shoved down Vice's mouth.

Vice decided to release the grasp of Fio's other arm and pry away the tonfa from her mouth with both arms – the taste of the leather-laced oak was _not_ doing well for her, and the low strikes she started to take to the stomach from Fio's left tonfa jabbing in were just more for the pot of frustration.

Eventually, Vice overpowered the young soldier and turned the tables on the situation, pinning Fio hard against the wall and then just proceeding to _slam_ her _against_ it over and over with no remorse for the potential property damage ( _especially compared to Yuri's 'little' Haoh Shoukou Ken incident_ ).

After about five crashing impacts against the wall, to the point where it seemed to start to crack, Vice recklessly dropped Fio with what was basically a powerbomb.

The 'mission' was not going all that well for Fio by this point, having taking quite the damage to her back from just that moment alone. She rolled onto her stomach as she groaned in a growing agony, feeling momentarily helpless as Vice started to crawl over her with such a lingering, corrupt gaze peering down on the victim.

Mature looked on, satisfied with her wicked cohort's work. "For someone who works with the Ikari Warriors, you seem to be trying _really_ hard to disappoint them..."

Vice looked about ready to just tear one of Fio's ears off, her sharp nails roughly digging around it as she lifted her up by her head. "Just as I thought. Completely hopeless." The next thing she felt was nothing like she expected, however, as she felt the sharpness of a knife stabbing her in her side. Beneath what she was looking at, Fio had reached into one of her many pockets and had a legit knife to stab the wicked redhead down low.

The near-impaling pain wasn't _as_ much of a horrific feeling to Vice as it would've for most others, but it was still irritating and threatened to bring her to a disadvantage. She was rolled over and forced onto her back as Fio climbed up on top and handled the knife with a desperate aggression.

Fio wanted to dig the knife further into Vice's side, but there were chances that a true lethality would flourish forward. "I don't want to have to kill you," she said, continuing to recall the rules that were set forth for the tournament.

Vice scoffed, mostly getting over the searing pain in her side. She brought a hand, clutching across Fio's face in a way where her thumb looked ready to gouge out an eye beneath the glasses. "And why don't you? Afraid the host will whip you into submission?"

Vice brought her other hand, clenched into a fist, down against the floor and shoved herself off the ground with a surprising thrust against gravity to bring the two fighters into the air. Her legs clenched tightly around the waist of Fio, and she brought the Ikari-associated girl against the ceiling. A bit of a weird sight to see the two upside-down, up against the ceiling, as if gravity reversed – but it was only the prelude to the crescendo.

In the formation of a leg-scissors takedown swinging down into the ground, lunged herself down into a partial backflip, leaving her pretty much on top as they both crashed down to the floor. An eruption of dark energy enveloped the hall, like a brief explosion that just happened to include the afterimage of a fearsome skull in the middle of it, and the fog thankfully cleared before long.

And the one standing tall? Well, take a guess...

 **WINNER: Vice**

* * *

Vice rose back to her feet, only somewhat dirtied by the dust and fog that blew across the hall. In the outcome of the bout, she came out of it with barely much in terms of accumulated damage... well, aside from the knife still stuck in the side of her gut.

As for poor Fio, she was out cold – her glasses cracked and smashed, her cap crumpled next to her face, and a light downpour of blood streaming down parts of her face – between the hairline beyond her forehead, and her nose, she was a bit of a reddened mess on the ground.

Vice scoffed towards the unconscious soldier on the ground. "Try again when you stop being a pussy." Without hesitation, she pulled the knife out of her body, and the stain that was somewhat visible on her dark suit jacket grew slightly from the bleeding wound beneath.

"I think I'll keep the knife," Vice then said, as she took a nice look at the weapon, and the reddened end of the blade. "Nice little momento for this girl's dull attempts, don't you think?" She offered the knife to Mature behind her.

"More than enough, I'd say." The blonde took up the offer, and let her tongue travel freely. She licked the bloodied blade and partook in the dark red fluid as if it was the appetizer towards things to come. "Come along," she then said, walking ahead of her red-headed counterpart. "The fun's only started..."

* * *

"Jeez... that's gotta suck..."

Aoi looked on as the TV projected the aftermath of the battle – being as far away from supporting the Hakkesshu in any way whatsoever, she was kinda counting on Fio getting a surprise win just so those creepy ladies wouldn't get the satisfaction of advancing. Unfortunately, they did, and they were certainly taking it in stride with how they were just partaking in their own blood like it was normal.

It wasn't. It was fucking weird. Guess that was just 'Gaia's will' or whatever they preached on about.

Leona was alongside the Kusanagi relative, keeping up on their newly-grown bond – Fio's loss was more of a hit on her than it was Aoi, since the young soldier was at least loosely aligned with the Ikari team.

"They aren't going to get away with this for much longer," said Leona. The stoic nature of her tone remained, but you could tell she was holding her anger within. "There's always someone stronger to hold them back."

"Maybe it'll be us," Aoi suggested. "Who knows?"

"It all comes down to Elisabeth's decisions. Whatever comes, we'll be ready, and they'll fall."

"It'd mostly be you who's ready – I'm gonna be honest, I'm not all that certain about where I'm going to end up."

"Don't lose trust in yourself," Leona advised. "You're a Kusanagi – the flames of the Sacred Treasure, it runs in the family, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, but for my first time at a tournament like this, it's... kind of like choosing a lake as your first swimming spot." Aoi compared, "Small fish in a big pool, I think..."

Leona raised an eyebrow. "You ' _think_ '?"

Aoi sighed, "Look, I feel like I've seen _way too much_ of what those ladies of capable of, so my head's not on all straight..."

"Reasonable; Vice and Mature _are_ among the scum of the Orochi..."

"Kinda hoping we deal with them quick, or else we might _all_ be roped into their bullshit."

"I wouldn't focus _all_ my energy, Aoi," Leona advised. "It's not just them we'd have to deal with..."

"Yeah, I didn't forget..." After saying that, Aoi felt someone cuddle her tightly.

" _Glomp~!_ " Shermie's embrace was all too familiar, and Aoi nearly rolled her eyes the whole way into her head in a mild case of frustration. Not the first time she'd been the victim of a surprise hug, and most definitely not the last either...

Leona kept her eyes away from what was going on beside her, and kept her silence along with it. Whether there was something she'd likely regret saying on the mind or not, it was only in her deep inner thoughts at the moment.

"What do you want now?" Aoi sighed.

Shermie giggled, barely loosening the embrace she had behind the Kusanagi relative. "Just wanted to check up on my favorite biker babe before her first big match. Feeling nervous?"

"Okay... first off, I dunno if my number's coming up next," explained Aoi. "Second, the only thing I'm feeling right now is _uncomfortable_ with you wrapped around me. Could you please...?"

You couldn't see it in her eyes – mainly because her hair hid them far too well – but Shermie sensed a bit of lacking optimism within Aoi as she was shooed away from the hug. "What's wrong? With this whole crazy tournament, I would've figured you'd be excited..."

"Well, after that last match that your 'friends' took part in, there's a lot of things on my mind worth forgetting forever." The last match's aftermath threatened to taint Aoi's mind.

The French redhead giggled away the vaguely grotesque image, though. "That's just their thing, no? They just kinda get off on that sorta stuff – sometimes with each other."

Aoi's stomach wriggled at the simple thought of Vice and Mature partaking in some sort of sadistic foreplay levels beyond the blood-tasting. "Gross."

"But fun," Shermie insisted confidently.

Aoi glanced back, "It's not like you ever took part in that shit with them, right?" Shermie didn't say anything immediately, but her sneaky smile and light blush told the answer for Aoi, who started to maybe realize, "Ah _fuck_ , you did, didn't you?"

"I don't often kiss and tell, Aoi," Shermie simply said, as she started to walk past. "If you'll _excusez-moi_ , I've got a match to prepare for... but we can talk later about it if you're feeling desperate about it."

Aoi insisted, "Trust me, that's the last feeling I'd want."

Smiling subtly, Shermie wordlessly said farewell with a blown kiss towards Aoi, and strutted off to elsewhere.

…

Leona, after spending that whole conversation in silence, finally broke it once Shermie was fully out of the scene. "You just can't trust her – even with a smile like that, you just know she has a sinister beast within. Lightning and thunder – only the Orochi could enact power like that from her..."

Burying her face into the table she sat at, Aoi was quiet herself for a moment before she brought her head back up and towards the stoic soldier. An ultimatum was on the mind of the Kusanagi rebel. "Leona... if you happen to get to her before I do... kick her teeth in, would ya?"

"I'll do what I can," Leona partially sealed the promise. "But like I said, it's up to Elisabeth – and if she's as willing to deal with them as we are."

Aoi's arms crossed over the table, her head rested underneath a mild exasperation towards the situation at hand. "God, I hope so..."

* * *

 **Next Chapter: 'The Fists' vs. 'The Legs' – kind of an odd hint to what's to come, but it's the best I got.**


	12. R1: Vanessa vs Luong

**I wanna note, I had an odd thrill writing the previous match between Fio and Vice – maybe it was because it wasn't simply just a couple of ladies duking it out in a 'may the best woman win' way, but more of a vicious assault that was kinda one-sided. Might be spelling out the kind of stuff I like outside of the pure smut, I dunno.  
**

 **Anyways, enjoy...**

* * *

 **OPENING ROUND – FIGHT #6  
** **Vanessa vs. Luong**

Vanessa shadowboxed with excitable fists as she arrived at the 'combat zone' for the match – a very lengthy hallway provided much distance in terms of north/south, compensating for the somewhat narrow width of the scenery. The agent had her fill of drinks, and she was raring to throw down with her opponent, who had gotten there before her.

Luong had a bit of a split-legged stretch going – one foot planted fairly high against one of the walls and the other planted on the floor, at the bottom crease of the wall on the opposite side. Her flexibility was not something to scoff at, and if anything, it only added to the appeal she was already well-known for from her first showing in a past _King of Fighters_ tournament.

Although flowing with combative adrenaline, Vanessa was willing to ease into the fight after a bit of chatting up. "So... you're the Korea Team's new hotness, I hear?" she asked.

Luong's attention was caught, as she looked towards the redheaded brawler before her – but she didn't break off her limber pose. "Don't try to deny it – you like what you see, don't you?

Vanessa chuckled in response, "You're one to judge."

On the other hand – it may have been the lasting buzz twirling about in her body, but beneath the strong surface that hid it well within herself, she _did_ feel a significant tinge of attraction towards the Vietnamese beauty. It may have been the strong legs, the seductive tone or the see-through cloth providing a bit of under-boob cleavage – or all of the above – but from the first meeting, Luong was making good on her nickname of the 'Enchanting Beauty'.

After a little bit more stretching against the wall, Luong lowered her welcoming leg, "Don't go easy on me – I'm not _just_ looks, you know."

Vanessa had to kinda shake off the tempting thoughts in order to regain her fighting stance. "Right – let's just have some fun."

 _ **FIGHT!**_

Vanessa made the immediate first move, sliding in with an attempted uppercut – Luong narrowly evaded the fist coming up, with the gloved right only managing to make just the _slightest_ contact with the closest strands of her hair. A couple more punches swung through from Vanessa's arsenal, a left and then a right hook, and missed as Luong swiveled past them with elegance, and then aimed low with a kick that clipped Vanessa's ankle out from under her.

The agent was dropped to one knee as she had to duck to avoid Luong's leg as it went swinging for her skull. Vanessa dropped down lower to try and tackle Luong's other leg, and managed to pluck her up off the ground and onto her shoulder. Before long, however, Luong slipped out of her brief predicament, dropping back down to the ground on her hands and flipping frontwards onto her feet.

Vanessa was a little clueless as she felt the weight on her shoulder just fall out of her hands, but she quickly retained her focus by turning around. Luong propped her left foot against the wall, returning to the stance she took on moments before. Recalling the subtle body language that Vanessa greeted her with right before the match began, Luong had a brief plan in action. The Vietnamese beauty looked back with tempting eyes, welcoming hips and a beckoning finger; it seemed like she was willing to give Vanessa a bit of a free shot – likely more in the 'fist-fight' way than... any more sort of a way.

Vanessa briefly let her eyes wander, and her teeth nibble into one of the leather fingertips of her gloves, but she again refused to let it get to her for too long. She ultimately responded by sliding in for another swinging punch, going for a direct fist to the back, but Luong sprung up and out of the way, somehow performing the perfect splits with her feet on opposing walls, before dropping down onto the redhead's shoulders.

Vanessa felt the long legs of the seductress start to tighten across her neck and upper-chest, and it was far less comfortable than you'd think. Luong relaxed her upper-body for a moment, allowing herself to hang upside-down as her legs kept a firm clench beneath Vanessa's head and forced quite a struggle out of her.

As Vanessa started to plan on just swinging her opponent against the wall, Luong began to catch that plan right before it could go anywhere and rose herself back up. "You're quite the fiesty one, aren't you?" she giggled down to the boxer.

Vanessa then suddenly found herself being brought straight down to the floor as Luong's legs dragged her down. Vanessa's face took the landing first before the rest of her, _smacking_ against the carpeted floor with a reckless tumble. Her sight was briefly a blur, but she could still make out the mostly-empty hall ahead beyond the haze.

Luong laid confidently, stomach-down, and looked back with another mischievous giggle as she waited for Vanessa to get herself back together. When the redhead _did_ get her bearings together, she charged forward in an attempt to pounce down on Luong with a punch thrusting downwards – the Taekwondo beauty rolled out of the way, leaving Vanessa to wind up punching the floor.

" _Fuck!_ " The agent recoiled vulgarly as she rattled away the pain in her hand.

Luong kept her distance as she allowed Vanessa to again recover from her mistake, but she restarted her offense before her opponent was completely recovered. " _Geki!_ " With a snapping thrust of the leg facing the most forward, it came across as a blur as she managed a nasty whipping strike on Vanessa's left shoulder. From the distance between the two, you wouldn't expect that stretching kick to actually connect, but the 'Enchanting Beauty' continued to impress.

Luong's sharp kicks continued, swinging without aim but connecting each time on a random point of Vanessa's body, leaving the agent nearly helpless for the moment.

"You can give up now if you want," the Asian beauty insisted, "I could keep this up all day...!"

On the other side of the assault, Vanessa continued to take the offense head on for several kicks longer. Her shirt caught a few brief tears from those harsh strike, and she was actually managing to approach a closer proximity towards Luong. Even if it was at a snail's pace, she was getting somewhere.

After about twenty kicks altogether, Vanessa surprisingly managed to _catch Luong's leg by the 21st kick!_

Getting over her bruises and scrapes received thus far, Vanessa scoffed, "'All day'? How prepared are you really, for right now?" She tackled Luong against the wall and powered through her long-range offense, leveling the temptress with some strong body blows.

"Body-body-body- _body-body-bodybodybody_ UP _PER_ ~!" Vocally shouting her exerting strikes, Vanessa brought a proper finale to her combo with a potentially jaw-destroying uppercut, one that proved _so_ forceful that Luong was sent _up the wall_ and nearly smashed her head against the ceiling! Fortunately for her, avoiding the ceiling could've proven to help her stay in the match for a little longer, but as she slid back down the wall, Vanessa calmed the velocity of the drop by holding Luong in place with a hand placed against her chest.

Vanessa had a bit of a one-liner ready as she seemed prepared to smash the Korea Team seductress through the wall. "Don't worry about suffering too much longer, sweetie – I'll put this match to bed real quick!"

One more strong punch could prove to be the end-game to this bout – with the wind-up and the swing...

...Vanessa struck nothing but the wall...?

Luong still had some health left to this battle, and she managed to swiftly drop down to the floor before anything connected – Vanessa wound up punching the wall, as previously stated, and not only that, but her fist had found itself burrowing _into_ the wall, leaving her in a bit of a predicament.

Luong chuckled at the sight above her, bleeding slightly from the bottom lip. "You've certainly proven yourself – just not against me," she snarked.

As Vanessa struggled to get her hand unstuck, Luong slowly slithered out from under the agent and kept herself low and out of sight for the minute.

Ultimately, Vanessa managed to free herself from her hand's accidental self-entombing by removing it from her glove – she still had to deal with the harsh sting from punching what was essentially damn near concrete, though. "...Piece of shit wall!" she ranted briefly.

That would seem to be her last line of the bout, as she immediately felt a foot drop down atop her head – Luong backflipped into an upside kick, sneaking in the strike from the side to level Vanessa while she was distracted by her own quickly-solved problem. The agent felt such a pounding force that it almost felt like her eyes were going to fall right out of their sockets – fortunately, and that's saying fairly _loosely_ , she only had to deal with a splatter of blood flowing straight from her disrupted system and out of her mouth.

The Taekwondo beauty looked on from behind the redhead, taking her sweet time with her foe. "You might want to hang up those gloves before it's too late – you just can't compete with elegance." Bending her leg back, Luong took a spinning start before making for one more swift swing, then clocked Vanessa with a kick straight to the back of her head...

...which sent Vanessa head-first into, and _through_ the wall! A strong tuft of dust resulted from the destruction of the wall, and as it faded, an odd image of Vanessa's head buried neck-deep in the wall and her body hanging against that wall in unconsciousness formed as the lasting scene of the match's finale.

 **WINNER: Luong**

* * *

In fairness, the position of which Vanessa's KO'd body was left was very amusing, especially in the eyes of Luong, who again giggled at the expense of the agent.

"If there's anything in the way of advice a lady like myself can give... maybe just lay off the drinks before your big match?" In the occasions of close encounters during the match, Luong was able to recognize the smell of strong liquor – and she had a feeling that was Vanessa's downfall for the most part.

The Vietnamese fighter was fairly damaged coming out of the match, having taken some harsh body blows and a particularly rough uppercut, but she still seemed well enough by the end to walk away under her own power. Her hips pivoted about with a certain confidence as she strutted out of the scene, a fighter of a new generation overcoming the more veteran competition in this first round...

* * *

 **Another nice, tough bout, just as simple as that.**

 **Next Chapter: Athena jumps into the fray for her first performance of the tournament...**


	13. R1: Athena Asamiya vs Kisarah Westfield

**A heads-up: This chapter's gonna have a bit of smut after the fight.**

* * *

 **OPENING ROUND – FIGHT #7  
** **Athena Asamiya vs. Kisarah Westfield**

The locale of the fight was at the corner between long halls – doors leading to guest rooms were visible in the not-so-far distance from where the decided combat zone was.

Through the projecting camera set to provide the next bout, the screen provided what was basically 90% composed of Athena's face – mainly because she was using the reflection of the camera's lens as a makeshift mirror while she did a spotlight check on herself.

Hairband? Nice and straightened.

Hair? As perfect a shade of dark purple as you could get.

Costume? Still kinda tight and clingy on her body, but she was getting used to it.

Being a world-reknown pop idol, Athena needed to be absolutely sure that her overall look was at its most optimal – it was almost like a case of OCD, but a controllable sense.

It was going to be showtime in no less than two minutes, and with Psycho Power on her side, she was prepared to face down her upcoming opponent...

…

Kisarah carried her school bag with her to the combat zone, like she did when she initially arrived. She was a bit nervous but she was still optimistic, even though she was going to throw down with someone with quite the gifted powers.

She couldn't help but be all smiles as she approached Athena from behind and at a distance. The pop idol didn't notice for a little while until she turned around and met face to face with the high-schooler.

"Hello again," greeted Kisarah.

"Oh! Uh, Kisarah, right?" Athena asked. "So you're my opponent?"

Kisarah provided a bit of a reasonable theory to the match-up. "Guess maybe Ms. Blanctorche wants to be sure if I can 'hang around' with the strong side of the competition. I want to do my best – will you, too?"

Athena was quick to voice her brief reluctance to the upcoming bout. "I... almost don't want to go at my best right away; I don't want to overpower you too hard..."

"This isn't my first fight, y'know," Kisarah said. "I can handle a few bruises... are you ready?"

"I guess there's no turning back for either of us, then..." Athena enacted her fighting stance, as she then declared, "Athena, on stage!"

 _ **FIGHT!**_

Athena dashed into close quarters, and started throwing some open-palm strikes – three palming punches were thrown in a single string of strikes, and all three somehow missed as Kisarah swiveled around and luckily dodged them all in succession. Athena managed to land her next attack, a bit of a short-leap kick reaching for the mid-section, and sent Kisarah sliding a slight distance.

Athena retained the close distance by making her way further down the hall towards the England girl, dipping lower to sweep her legs out from under her with an ankle-height dropkick. Kisarah took a tumble down and saved herself from taking a harsh pratfall by bringing her case to the floor and using it to cushion herself.

Kisarah then did a brief vault over her bag, flipping over and homing in on Athena with a darting dropkick of her own. She connected with the kick on the pop idol, sending her reeling back in brief grogginess. This allowed Kisarah another strike to follow up, as she brought a boot to Athena's gut, kicking her further back against the wall, and she tried to follow it up by swinging her case forward.

Athena ducked, struck Kisarah below her angle of bag-swinging with two palms to the stomach, and pushed her back with the double-hand strike. " _Psycho Ball~!_ " Athena tossed the pinkish-orange projectile straight at the exchange student, and got in an extra running kick as a follow-up, for the three hit combo.

With another dash in, and a short leap, Athena cocked her fist back and swung hard – Kisarah brought her bag up to chest-level, where Athena was aiming, and managed to block the punch. Athena's fist clacked hard against the rough lather bag, and there was a bit of a harsh, echo-less contact followed by Athena reeling her hand back and shaking off a spark of pain.

It was Kisarah's turn to dash in, bringing her bag and swinging it at Athena's chest as hard as possible. This sent even further smashing pain against the Psycho Soldier, as she stumbled back and nearly knocked over a plant-carrying vase that was meant to be delicate decorating for the hallway.

Athena lost her guard for a brief moment, genuinely surprised at how hard the bag felt coming into contact with her. "Geez...!" She had to ask, even if it was inconvenient for the fight, "What's even _in_ that bag?"

Kisarah wore a proud smile. "It's a surprise how much hard-cover books could do for combat, isn't it?"

With a brief flash of pink, Athena had a brief speed boost as she flung herself at Kisarah again and grappled into her to hold her down for a moment as she had to think up her next strategy quickly in the short amount of time she could give herself.

That time was shortened even further when Kisarah ducked further down and brought her foot swinging flexibly far over behind herself, smacking the back end of her foot against the back of Athena's head like the sting of a scorpion's tail. Athena unconsciously freed her opponent as she stumbled away, allowing Kisarah to dive in with a jumping knee to the face that knocked the Psycho Soldier down.

To add insult to injury, Kisarah dropped herself ass-first against Athena's face while she was down for one more hit before rolling off and kneeling nearby, as Athena writhed briefly – the pop star could've most definitely gotten her nose broken if the ass-drop was angled a specific way.

"So tell me, Asamiya," Kisarah began to ask, "how am I doing so far?"

Although the last couple strikes did quite a number on her, Athena managed to give out a smile. "Well, you certainly got a way with attacks."

The two young ladies, both kneeling, had eyes locked on each other as they very briefly conversed, and Kisarah saw the glow of energy beneath her too late as Athena brought an energized palm straight up her jaw.

" _Psycho Sword~!_ " Athena sent Kisarah, and herself alongside, flying off the ground for a bit of hang-time and allowing the Psycho Soldier to knock her foe straight back down to the ground with a swaying kick.

Kisarah bounced briefly against the ground, before rolling off her back and onto her elbows and knees. She maintained a low stance on the ground as she looked back up and saw that Athena was still hovering in the air, helped by her psychic energy, just moments before she spiraled herself down like a meteorite.

" _Phoenix Arrow!_ " Athena dove straight into the ground, but her initial strike failed to clock Kisarah dead-on – the sweeping low dropkick afterwards, however, did, and fully laid Kisarah out.

Kisarah was gradually feeling the experience of the rough-and-tumble combat she allowed herself to get into – the England exchange student was starting to have trouble standing up after those kicks to the legs, and her allowing her knees to occasionally scrape against the ground.

"I gotta say, you've been putting up quite the effort," Athena was heard, several feet across from Kisarah. "I'd hate to say, though, but you're kinda outclassed..."

Holding pure Psycho Power atop her index finger, Athena rolled the baseball-sized orb across the hall like a little bowling ball, and it eventually stopped underneath Kisarah

Having fallen into deeper fatigue than her opponent throughout the match, Kisarah wasn't exactly able to smoothly evade what was about to come – she took her certain defeat with an impressed grin. "Nice one."

A harsh pop of energy plowed Kisarah up into the ceiling and sent her back down to Earth just as quickly. Coughing and groaning, it was more than a definite point for her to just pack it up and take her loss like a woman, as she rolled onto her back a soot-covered mess.

 **WINNER: Athena Asamiya**

* * *

You could really consider Athena's battle and victory as a sort of performance piece with her graceful effort throughout, and it rewarded her with the win. Asamiya was welcoming to the scattered applause that she couldn't hear, and she took a thankful bow towards the cameras that focused on the now-completed match.

Beneath the very minimal amount of sounds beyond the calm ambiance of the building, however, Athena was left capable of fully hearing something seem to rip open on her person. The realization kicked in immediately for her – without actually shifting her lips, her smile managed to contextually morph from one of confidence to one that feared feeling embarrassment.

Her sleek, tight shorts had given up on her form and had split at the rear, and since the spats doubled as her undergarments, she... ahem... exposed a bit more skin than expected – at least more than she wanted down at her nethers. Athena _froze up_ in her mid-bow pose as the exposure of her partially naked rear through the tear silently overwhelmed her in the form of heavy blush across the face.

If there was anything for her to be thankful for at the moment, it was that the tournament was a private matter – there wasn't an audience of millions in this case, rather more or less _thirty_ in this case between the other competitors – those who _weren't_ committed to whatever personal clinic Elisabeth provided within her mansion, at least – and the additions alongside Elisabeth like Chizuru and, well...

* * *

Ash watched on at the foyer of the mansion as the TV he had come across provided the aftermath of the Athena/Kisarah battle, and, in turn, also provided a decent gander at Athena's butthole through her split-open shorts, beneath her fairly short skirt. In his head, he was certain Betty had to be feeling bad about the Psycho Soldier's little dilemma, but in a personal sense, it was an entertaining little moment for him to linger by and witness as a viewing audience member.

He chuckled at the broadcasted misfortune of Athena, " _Pas si parfait, tu l'es maintenant?_ "

This was accompanied afterwards by another chuckle – but not from him... "Yeah, _parfait_ something something, right?"

Ash turned his head – the brown-clad Malin was reclining on a table that was near and behind him, almost as if she wanted him to notice her; and given earlier, that _had_ to have been the case.

"What are you doing, kid?" Ash was only somewhat capable of recognizing Malin on the spot as she was once a tagalong of Athena's, back in the 2003 _KOF_ tournament, and he almost scoffed at her presence.

"Just watching the tournament, like you," Malin answered as she started to hop off the table. "I may or may not have been looking at your ass, too."

Ash wouldn't mind if she was, if the mischievous little giggle meant anything. "Well, aren't _you_ cheeky..."

"If anything, Athena's the one who's cheeky right now," Malin joked. "You and I saw the same thing, right – the whole rip?"

"And what a rip it was," said Ash. "I think she could benefit from the exposure, if you catch my drift."

"Yeah, I guess so." Malin started to approach a little closer to the red-clad Frenchy as she responded. "Though... you wanna know what _I'm_ thinking?"

Ash turned the rest of the way towards the girl. "The floor is yours, kid."

With little hesistation, Malin decided to hop up onto like a lovely cat, with her arms wrapping around the back of his neck and her legs around his waist. "How about you expose _me_ and give me a nice good fuckin' on that table over there?"

The proposition rung hard on Ash as he felt the blonde rogue cling onto him tightly – he could've sworn she was trying to grind herself lower against his crotch all the while.

Regardless, his cocky grin sprung to the surface. "I don't think you really want this, kid."

Malin lightly felt against Ash's face with an open hand and a matching smile. "Afraid I'd be too much to handle?"

Ash grabbed the girl's feeling hand. "I should be saying that to _you_..."

Within seconds, the two suddenly soared over to the long-stretched banquet table and started sucking face, as Ash had Malin pinned down on her back against the hard wood with the aggression akin to someone on a hard-working love potion.

Tongues clashed in a showcase of love beyond war, and Ash was quick to reach low and beneath Malin's skirt as the session carried by at a quick pace. Feeling against the spandex of her form-fitting shorts, eager Crimson began to fondle against the protruding pussy through the clothes, his fingers providing a welcoming heat to make Malin quiver and melt before him at a moment's notice.

"Mmph! F-fuck!" Malin whimpered as her 'bad boy crush' vigorously fingered her and just made her straight up soak the most sensitive region of her shorts. "Please~! I need your cock, now!"

Ash chuckled with confidence, taking the girl's begging words in stride. "Very well." His black-polished nails dug into the sleek fabric around Malin's slit, and tore them open rather easily. He must've really wanted that easy access into her, and it was much more evident when he tugged down on his pants and his cock sprung out from beneath, already hardened to the core and beckoning with subtle throbs.

He immediately pressed himself against her and purged through her entrance with ease, and he went straight to business as he withdrew nearly the whole way back and slammed into her, sheathing his cock into her down to the base.

Ash continued to slam into his prey, at an approximate estimation of two thrusts per second, and this quickly brought Malin to a moaning mess as her legs were spread wide for her crush and her skirt was nearly flipped inside out, flapping out onto her chest.

The tight pussy he ever so gracefully penetrated left Ash also on the brink of a sensual blessing, as he continued to let his hips do their magic on the young girl, wildly thrusting in such a ambiance accompanied by the smacks of flesh connecting together in a symphonic rhythm of sex.

Eventually, the aura was starting to overwhelm even Ash, as his groan fizzled out through his nose. It was hardly more than three minutes and his cock was starting its preparations to expunge its load into its target.

"Mmm, fuck... I'm close, _ma chérie_...!"

"Nngh, yes!" Malin nodded aggressively as she too was coming close to her climax. "Yes, please! Cum inside me! Impregnate me if you want! _**Please!**_ "

It must've just been luck, but it could've absolutely been fate allowing Malin to get plowed by her off-hand crush. She could almost hear within her head a crowd chanting her name and cheering her on as her pleasurable travels to Pound Town were about to reach a nice and creamy end.

" _Ma-lin, Ma-lin, Ma-lin, Ma-lin...!"_

Intriguingly enough, it gradually started to sound like a crowd of _one_... and that one sounded oddly familiar...

* * *

"Malin! _Malin!_ "

Malin gasped herself awake and her eyes sprung open, and instead of the sight of her quote-unquote 'boy-toy' plowing her, she saw the bottom of a bunk bed above her, and the convenient TV screen included right above her own bed.

No Ash. No full penetration. No _creampie_. Just a dirty little daydream.

Conveniently sheltered from the neck down with her bed-sheets, was spared the need to cover anything that needed covering, as she glanced over and saw a slightly worried Athena staring back, a bit of cloth wrapped around her waist and hanging down behind her due to... well, you know...

Malin could barely speak – she was still winding down from her fantasy. "W-wha...?"

Athena reminded her, "Your match is up next!"

Malin's eyes briefly widened "Oh _fuck_!" She jumped away from her bed-sheets, adjusting her skirt and shorts and re-tying the loosened bandanna that nearly fell off her head. "Sorry 'bout that! Thought I still had time! Gotta run!"

She sped off to try and make up for her near-tardiness to the battle, leaving Athena by herself to look frustrated, as the rascal's behavior around her since before the tournament began had started to wear down on her.

A second later, Athena took notice to a knife that was left laying on the bed, and realized that Malin might wind up a weapon short for the battle. "Hey wait! You forgot your—!"

Athena stopped herself once she actually grabbed the knife, as something else sparked within her mind, specifically about that little neglected weapon. Mainly, the handle, and the fact that it was noticeably moist in her grasp. Clicking together that and what it seemed like Malin was doing with it before she had to snap her out of her fantasy, it was no surprise when she dropped it after a moment of silence.

" _Gross._ "

The Psycho Soldier then spent the next few minutes contemplating boiling her hand...

* * *

 **Little bit of a factoid - that 'wet dream' sequence was actually a little longer, and actually reached the cumshot in the original OpenOffice file (and it's still as it is on the file right now). I absoutely doubt I'll post that version of the scene as a separate chapter since it's only an extra couple of light paragraphs with barely any differences anywhere else.  
I decided to cut it short to make the 'it was a dream scene' twist hit a little more sudden ( _although in the original version, it was as abrupt as this version with the 'chant/call your name' bit_ ) - as if reality decided Malin didn't deserve a 'creamy end', even in her dreams. I have a feeling she'll eventually get a real smut scene much later on - not with Ash, though.  
**

 **Next Chapter: After a bit of a rocky prelude for her, it's Malin's time to shine next – but she may have a hard time against the opponent that's decided for her...**


	14. R1: Malin vs Nagase

**OPENING ROUND – FIGHT #8  
** **Malin vs. Nagase**

Malin just barely made the five-minute deadline to the combat zone – having to dash halfway across the mansion was no funny business at all, and it just seemed like life was testing her patience. Maybe it was the sexual fantasy weighing her mind down, combined with having to fight through this tournament.

The blonde rebel was exhausted upon arrival – although the hallway scenery was well-lit by the wall spread with windows, it was no help to her situation as she was a panting, sweaty mess.

"Didn't think you'd actually show up." Malin sprung up slightly when she heard her opponent sound off outside of her line of sight. She looked ahead of herself, then behind her, then the sides. Then she looked up.

Nagase, the honeybee assassin, was somehow laying on the ceiling, presumably intending to show off a bit of her wild agility. "For a second, I was expecting to catch an easy forfeit win."

Malin showed resentment towards her opponent from the get-go. "Ugh, just screw right off, okay? You know how tough it is to run around the place trying to find these stupid combat zones? …just, come on down here, you stupid—I don't have time to bitch around."

Although she would've rather just stayed up there to piss her opponent off further with barely any effort, Nagase dropped down to the ground with expert precision. "Alright, first off – stamina, work on it; second, manage your time better – don't waste it on bullshit if it's a tournament like this; _third_ , you might want to watch yourself before you lose your tongue, kid."

"'Kid'? Pfft~!" Malin scoffed. "You don't look that much older than I do."

Nagase sent out a retort, as she scanned up and down on her rival through her enhanced glasses. "Physically, sure; in terms of 'years old', maybe; but in terms of fighting skill, I've downloaded so much battle data over the past few years, and from the looks of it, all you got are shitty trinkets."

"Shitty? _Trinkets!?_ "

Nagase rolled her eyes. "Are half your responses today going to just be retorts about my insults?"

Malin pointed _aggressively._ "No! J-ju—just shut up! That's the same bullshit Yuri keeps pedaling at me!"

"Jeez, Karate Kid's getting you pissy? Maybe check your grudge at the door _before_ you face someone like me..."

Malin whipped out her claw from her bag of tricks. "Don't make me disembowel you."

Nagase smiled cockily at the reflection of herself shining off of Malin's Wolverine-style claw blade. "Highly doubt you ever have – but if you want this, I ain't gonna tease you."

 _ **FIGHT!**_

Malin immediately went for blood, thrusting her claw at Nagase's face, but the blades only met more blades, as Nagase caught the claw by the wedge between blades with one of her ninjato swords. After a moment of pushing against each other, Nagase caught the upper hand early on by kicking Malin in the gut and then laying in the other boot square on her forehead, sending her stumbling.

Nagase followed her foe down the path and pounced her with a rough tackle, and then stomped on her gut while she was down. Malin sprung up into a seated position as she reeled from the stomping force against her stomach, only to find herself having to react quickly as Nagase attempted to slash at her face with both of her ninjato blades.

Malin swooped back down into a lying-face-up position before kipping up and meeting back against the ninjutsu-experienced assassin. She swung a wild punch and it was ducked, as Nagase smoothly weaved by, came up behind her, brought both feet to her back, and then with a roll-back she sent Malin across the hall with a sort of monkey-flip toss.

Malin took the initial landing on her back before rolling back onto her hands and knees, and watched on for too long as Nagase ran up at her again and used her like stairs, stepping on the top of her head with one foot as elevation, and then pushing her face against the floor with the other as she hopped right over the hazel-clad girl with no care for her opponent's relative safety.

Nagase then took a few steps backwards and got a chuckle out of Malin's current situation, as she saw her with her face planted against the floor and her lower body forming a bit of an upwards plateau with her butt sticking up.

"Look at you," said Nagase. "A minute with me and you're already looking like a total chump."

Malin started to push herself off against the ground, frustratedly grumbling to herself – however, Nagase brought a foot to the back of her head and kept her down as she took a bit of a position above her, kind of like straddling backwards on a horse.

"You might not want to let yourself get into positions like this," Nagase recommended. "People tend to play around with their opponents sometimes – like so."

The enhanced ninja swung an open hand down and slapped the backside of Malin's skirt – followed by another, and another. Several brief, annoyed grunts came out of Malin as she blushed with mild anger while her opponent played with her butt like bongos.

Nagase chuckled to herself, clearly having a bit of fun with this. "Now, I'm not one to judge, but compared to Yuri – your 'rival' – I'd say she probably has more rhythm going in her trunk than you."

Her laugh was transitioned quickly into gagging as a wire suddenly whipped around her neck – she managed to avoid being _fully_ choked by bringing a few fingers in the space in between skin and wiring before it tightened.

Regardless of that, Nagase was still finding herself in a disadvantage, as Malin had managed to get her yo-yo and get it ( _mostly_ ) tight around her opponent.

Malin easily managed to heave Nagase over and onto the ground with her, taking a position akin to a crossface submission as she pulled hard and left the honeybee assassin at a surprising struggle. Maybe the butt comparison to her Kyokugenryu rival was again a bit much for her to take without resorting to violent tactics...?

It wasn't going to take too long, though, as Nagase broke free by tearing through the wire with her ninjato, and then spun around and shoved Malin down to the ground. The blade in her hand swung down against Malin's face, and loomed over one of her eyes as Nagase was scorned momentarily by the sudden cheap shot brought upon her.

Nagase spoke through gritted teeth, "Good work, dipshit – you got one on me, but I'm not letting anything else through out of you!"

She spoke way too soon, though, as the tables turned back over again and Malin rolled herself over, back on top of her opponent while holding back the ninjato-wielding hand. She dug into her little belt bag of tricks for a moment as she kept at the struggle – but after a few seconds, it seemed like something was going wrong for her.

"Shit!" she cursed at herself. "Must've left it on my bed!" For a moment, through her pausing expression, she almost seemed embarrassed to speak further.

Then Nagase took back control and slammed Malin down to the floor again, standing up and pressing a foot against her neck. "A weapon too short, are ya? You're far less prepared for me than I thought!"

Malin grabbed onto Nagase's neck-standing leg. "Still got a lot of other stuff to work with, though!" She kipped up again, knocking Nagase out with a mid-recovery dropkick.

With a bit of distance between the two, Malin decided on a bit of projectile play as she threw the yo-yo with the broken wire – as it soared by, it slowed slightly in its travel and within its core, a swirl of hidden blades unveiled onto the outline and spun with aggression.

Nagase guarded the toy-made-weapon as it clashed with her swords, shoving it back. Whipping out a handful of shuriken, she tossed them across, past the deadly toy that lost its speed and hover power...

...but the shurikens found themselves swung off to the left and through one of the large windows, as Malin brought _another_ object into play – that being a _cartoonishly large mallet._

The big guns—erm, big 'hammers'—came into play already, and Nagase was left a little baffled. _"Fuck's sake,"_ she thought. _"Even Mignon would consider that a bit much...!"_

"Hammer beats nail, bitch!" Malin quipped as she charged forward, ready to slam down with an overhead strike with that white and pink mallet.

Nagase charged forward in opposition with her blades, and a clash soon ensued as the hammer came down and was met with resistance from the ninjatos stabbing into it. The strength of the opposing weaponry was real, and the pushing led to equal ground for both of the young prospects.

Nagase chose this deadlock to provide some criticism towards the opposition. "'Hammer beats nail'? Please tell me you didn't actually spend _time_ on that line!"

Malin shouted back, "Sure as hell spent less time on that than you probably did with that stupid bumblebee haircut!"

" _Honey_ bee, ya dumb blonde!"

"You think I'd have in-depth knowledge on that crap? I _hate_ bugs!"

"Well, that explains why that Betty broad paired us against each other – guess I'm here to uphold your hatred for a reason!"

Malin pushed her mallet with further force but no avail. "Fuck you, I'm fighting through that hatred! And then Yuri's next!"

Nagase snapped back, "Fuck _you_ – I've got girls on my shitlist, too! Mignon, Lien, the works!"

"I barely know who either of those chicks are!"

"Tough fuckin' luck then!"

The long-term strengths began to show their colors, as the huge hammer compared to the short swords started to push harder against Nagase rather than vice versa with Malin – she started to take a couple steps back as she delved within her live-wired mind for a strategy to take back the advantage.

That strategy would've required one free hand, though, so she had to handle both of the ninjatos that were stuck in the flat end of the mallet with her right hand while trying to chalk a quick counter-act with her left. The battle data she had gathered from the long road around Southtown was going to be put into good use somehow...

Ultimately, she took into consideration the heat of the battle, and decided there needed a bit more to the flame – _quite literally, in fact._

Crouching lower, Nagase planted a palm against the floor and let go of the blades in her other hand. As this happened, Malin broke away momentarily as she shook the blades off of the mallet and went back in for a maddening hammering ahead...

...but she found herself meeting up and close with a burning aura that rose quickly and _exploded even faster_ – the assassin quite literally blew her opponent away with a catastrophic ring of fire that almost soared through the ceiling as the shockwave of flame sent Malin pretty far, and her cartoonish mallet even further away.

The scream of defeat heard spiraling out of her opponent was music to Nagase's ears, as she allowed the heat to encircle her in her destructive technique. When the flames eventually calmed around her, the hallway was a bit of a mess, with some charred rubble hanging about.

 **WINNER: Nagase**

* * *

Malin was across the room by bow, her clothes roughed up real bad from the fire that caught her dead-on, and she had apparently fallen into unconsciousness by the end of it all. Maybe she bumped her head against something in the midst of her unintended flight ( _maybe her mallet bonked HER, who knows_ ), or the burning sensation so close to her was too much for her to handle, for such a little reckless runt.

Regardless, Nagase was the one left standing at the climatic end, and she had advanced to the next round. After looming over the unconscious and defeated body of her foe, Nagase stepped on Malin's chest as one last bit of insult-to-injury as she made her exit.

She also had one more quip prior to her leave. "My advice – sell that mallet back to ACME, tell 'em it doesn't do shit against someone like me."

* * *

Elsewhere during the proceedings of the tourney, Lien had found herself at a comfortable position, sitting in a mostly empty bar room with a glass of alcohol by her side, looking on at the TV near and above where her barstool was positioned.

Her face read as stoic, but deep within, there was perhaps a hint of disgust towards the outcome of the latest match. The overarching connection in some of the winners was a bit of a major thought in her head.

Nagase had advanced, although unsurprising considering the competition she was set against, the comparatively weak Malin. _Mignon_ had somehow advanced, and Lien would only consider that as a stroke of luck luck since water against electricity was bound for bad things against _her_ opponent in Sylvie.

Whatever. There was a bright side to their victories: she had more of a chance of beating down someone she personally hated, near to the point of death – unfortunately not _to the death_ , and she can only blame Elisabeth and her noble ideals for that ruleset. She could care less about most of the other competitors, regardless of their road past the first round, in win or in loss.

"Oi, tits...!" Speaking of those who lost...

It wasn't worth Lien's time acknowledging her as she was unimportant to her eyes, but B. Jenet, relatively fresh off her loss against Love Heart several matches back, was also spending her time with the drinks, standing on the other side of the bar table with about three times more of the drinks than what the femme fatale was partaking in.

Jenet and Lien shared some odd similarities – being blonde British femme fatales who lived lives of crime. The similarities stopped not too far from there, as while Jenet was a cheerful but reckless spirit who flaunted her ambition, wealth and looks, Lien was all business with what she did and her looks were a weapon of their own.

Jenet offered the assassin, "You thinkin' you need another glass? Plenty o' sweetness to go around...!"

Lien's eyes barely separated from their glare against the table, just barely hearing Jenet despite her being right in front of her. "No thanks..."

"You sure? You look like you kinda need it..."

" _Fuck off._ "

May have been the alcohol dimming her mind a bit, but Jenet was unprepared by that brief but vulgar response. "Yeesh – haven't even had your match and you seem pissy. You see _me_ all smiles, and I _lost_ my match..."

Lien's response was straight-forward if harsh. "Because you find your refuge in the drinks. You _always_ do."

"I'm kinda known to be a party animal – the liquor's in my blood, basically." Jenet was _prepared_ to defend her reckless lifestyle, it seemed.

"A clear sign that you have a problem."

'Deny, deny, deny' – that was all what the pirate queen did throughout, and she was increasingly willing to resort to violence. "You really wanna do this with me? I got a pack of pirates waiting in the wings – we could pillage your arse to kingdom come if I wanted to!"

Lien responded calmly, handling what was left of the ice cubes in the almost-empty glass before her. "I'm pretty sure your parents wouldn't like what you've become in recent years; your ode to piracy and all..."

Jenet scoffed smuggly. "I honestly wouldn't care – better off on the sea than dealing with the petty, boring bullshit they tend to pedal. What would your parents say about _your_ workload?"

"Nothing; they're **dead.** "

Jenet blinked twice in silence as she realized she _may_ have struck a cord. "...Well, fuck, there goes some of my ammo."

Despite the mention of her late family, which held a risk to cause her recollection on horrible memories, Lien seemed to retain her stoic nature. "Not like you had much 'ammo' to begin with. I suggest you walk off from my sight _now_ before you really embarrass yourself..." She was polishing the rim of the glass as she calmly spoke out against the pirate queen.

Then with a brief crackle heard, a piece of the glass broke off, and was within Lien's hand in a sizable triangular piece that featured a clear, sharp point on one end of it. "Otherwise, if you're willing to stay, maybe I could show you what I could do with just this bit of glass I got in my hand."

Jenet was a little scared, but very clueless to the potential of the assassin before her. "...Can I at least have a hint, then?"

Lien's light grin was kinda intimidating. "Let's just say I'm _very_ precise with my incisions..."

Within seconds from that, Jenet started to pack it in for now and make her leave. " _Yeeeeah_ nope. Not gonna risk it. You go be a psycho bitch all you want around here, I'm just not gonna be around to see it." The purple-clad pirate was not often trumped by more fearsome competitors, and she knew when she'd rather not have a bad time. She hopped back over the bar table and exited stage left, her hands held up and to the side as she refused to look Lien in the eye any further.

Lien looked on at the departing pirate queen with a sense of sickening accomplishment to her successful intimidation tactic. Not a lot of people usually risked themselves enough to get past the threats and consider a full-fledged battle. Not a lot of _those_ people got out of the match without any injuries. Nonetheless, she was not what the assassin was here for...

" _You think you're such a smooth operator, eh?_ "

In fact, all she'd need to do was turn around to find her first-round opponent – and that was what she did.

King, the brawling bartender, was leaning against the opened door on the other side of the room, arms crossed as she stared straight ahead at the assassin. Wasn't the first time they bumped shoulders today, and with this confrontation, there was no telling if this was going to be the last.

She finished her comment, stating. "Unlike her – you might find I'm not so willing to back down."

From there, King started to step closer... Lien followed suit, slowly narrowing the space between her and her opponent...

* * *

 **Next Chapter: No mystery about what match comes next – Lien and King do battle next!**


	15. R1: Lien Neville vs King

**OPENING ROUND – FIGHT #9  
Lien Neville vs. King**

The combat zone was set, conveniently, to the bar room that the two blonde brawlers shared the space of. Red eyes met blue as the chosen fighters locked into each other's sights. The tension was so thick, you could almost cut into it like a smooth cake...

"So you're my opponent, then?" Lien said. "I'm surprised you managed to figure it out beforehand..."

"Chizuru and I go way back," King explained, recalling all the way back to 1997 with the assistant and coordinator. "Gave me a little intel about what I was getting into. She figured you needed a bit of tough competition to start things off, to make sure you have to back up what you say about yourself."

Lien chuckled in a condescending way. "The 'Powers That Be' don't think I can get the job done on the first go? Is that what I'm hearing out of you?"

King held back her own laughter. "Did I stutter? You're gonna be dealing with one of the classics; you know that, right?"

"I've dealt with ladies like you before," Lien retorted. "Your partners, for example, the shameless ninja and the karate girl. I'm not surprised you'd be the one to take up the challenge next – you could help me complete the trifecta today..."

"I know enough about you to know you lucked out on those fights – if you think you got the rabbit's foot by your side, you'll find out real quick it'll be up your ass in a minute."

Lien shook her head in disagreement to the French fighter's threat, accompanying her pompous grin. "Hmph... doubtful."

King continued briefly, "And I bet compared to what you know of my partners, you've got nothing else on the mind, _mon amie_."

"Are you sure you want to hold promises you can't keep? Don't think I know how your career's been going, 'Ms. Illusion'..."

King scoffed again. "One of the biggest bars in England. You should know, being a natural-born Brit and all. You think that's all that hard to find out nowadays?"

Lien retorted, "Never did I say I was starting off with the difficult stuff... but if you're ever so willing, shall we continue with this trivial pursuit, Cécile?

From the moment that last word came out of that assassin's mouth, King's mind fizzled for half a second. Her family and friends were the ones who most often referred to her by her real name, and that was still on occasion. Anyone else who did the same only did it to get in her head.

She drew Lien in for the initial encounter, but now she was at the Brit's full attention. However, she was not going to let up to the mind-games just yet...

Approaching just a slight bit closer, King followed her brief silence with an answer. "Go ahead – try me."

 _ **FIGHT!**_

Before anything further came of the heated debate, Lien thwarted an initial sucker-punch that swung out, tucking the punching arm under her own and shoving her against the bar table.

The personal interrogations started from there. "First things first – your utterly lackluster lovelife; would've figured you'd long before integrated into the Sakazaki family. Is it because you _fear_ the commitment?"

King flung a foot backwards against Lien's ankle to clip her down, before throwing her over her shoulder with a hip toss. As Lien landed carefully, King showed some fair discontent, as that little topic of discussion was slowly becoming stale.

" _Everyone's_ got a finger into that pool now," she said. "I've said it before, I'll say it again – it's _complicated_."

Lien lifted herself back to her feet. "Everything's 'complicated' with you, isn't it?" She dashed forward and lunged forward several wild punches that were blocked and weaved with ease by King; the Illusion bar owner then countered with some swiping kicks across one side of the assassin's head and then the other before giving her the ol' heave-ho over a table that nearly toppled once Lien's body tumbled over it.

Lien just barely managed to land back on her feet again, meeting one side of the table while her opponent took the other. "Suppose it's not your close friends that'd fear what I know... but your family?"

As Lien grabbed one of the wooden chairs and jabbed it at her opponent, King was still not too willing to let her mind crack, as she was considering the shift of topics as a bit more of a bluff than usual. "You're aiming low – but given the chance to actually _meet_ my family, I doubt you'd do any real damage with what you bring to the table."

The Muay Thai specialist thrusted a mid-aiming roundhouse kick towards the chair blocking her way, and as a blotch of flame soared through, the _Venom Strike_ obliterated the wood.

Lien was very briefly impressed with the power that projectile brought through just the furniture. "Fair point – I suppose your brother's taken enough troubles from the world around him..."

Perhaps that was the first real sign of cracks forming in King's head from the mind-games being played – she came up close to the assassin before her and linked a few kicks together in a combo that ended in a rough pushing boot square in the center of Lien's bosom. It seemed a touch more aggressive than before...

A slight bit dragged out by the stamina needed for those hard mid-section kicks, King retorted. "Alright – aiming for my family, I get what you're doing; singling Jan out, though? You're just _trying_ to piss me off."

"Don't try to deny that it's working," Lien responded.

She followed up with another punch that was clutched out by the opposition. However, as she was expecting that, she managed to catch King in the gut with a knee below where she looked, and for a moment, Lien was clearly leading in the running of the bout as she broke through King's half-assed guard.

Lien eventually had King pinned against the main table of the whole bar room, her heeled boot pressing against the midsection of the tapster's formal vest as she leaned in close on the Frenchwoman. "Care to also admit you're just drinking away your problems time and time again? Maybe that's why you opened a bar to begin with, hmm?"

"Nngh...! Go to hell..." King thrusted a knee below the belt to level Lien slightly, and then followed up on that. " _Double Strike_!" _Two_ fireballs were flung the Brit's way, kicked through by King like soccer balls aiming straight for the goalie's face, and Lien took the brunt of both of them as she tumbled back against another one of the round tables scattered about the room.

Lien was growing impatient with the fight more often than not going her way, that she somehow managed to tear the top board of the table off its stand; she took the advantage with that makeshift weapon as she charged forward to again pin King against the long table. The wood proved strong, pressing harshly against King's gut, and she struggled for a little while before deciding to just solve it with more kicks – she swung a leg up and the table piece splinted down the middle, before overpowering the femme fatale and shoving the folded-in wood towards her way.

King continued to defend herself, "I've been putting my talents to good use, just happened to involve the drinks, is all – you wouldn't understand that, even if it kicked you in the face." Fittingly enough, afterwards, King lunged in again with a jumping _Tornado Kick_ that Lien managed to mostly brace to absorb some of the damage.

"We've _both_ made our career choices for a reason – a reason neither of us would want to relive, clearly." Lien's arms kept at a bent and raised position to block the incoming strikes.

King continued to drive her opponent way with her speedy feet, keeping up on the offense for the undetermined future. "Then you might want to shut up before you say something you regret."

"I won't have any regrets if it means I win in some way or another." Lien attempted a left-handed spinning backfist, but it was mostly stuffed and forced back. Eventually, though, her crawling deeper into the enforcing blows being flung at her eventually paid off before long, as she caught King by her right leg and pushed further, again forcing the both of them against the main table. "Speaking of... I know _you_ certainly have a lot to regret about your past work – and about how you identified yourself."

One word, one warning, out of King. " _Don't._ "

"You were at war with your sex, were you not?" By this point, Lien was bending King's leg at a bad angle, intensifying the struggle a slight bit more after the French blonde gave out a punch across her face. "You had to hide who you really were to get by in Southtown, and what did that earn you?"

This whole verbal beatdown she was being forced to take left King to struggle towards a way out. To the left, just out of the corner of her eye, she recognized that glass, and the sharp chunk broken off of it. She lingered out a hand towards it while pushing aggressively against Lien's face with the other, but it was suddenly swiped away from her reach, and its pointed end was jabbed right into her left hip.

" _AGH!_ " King grunted sharply as the glass stabbed into her, buried halfway through her hip. Nothing in Elisabeth's rules against stuff like this, unfortunately, so she had to take the punishment.

Lien's clutch on the shard twisted slightly as she breathed with further venom against her opponent. "This pain you feel right now? I bet it was nothing like the nightmare you went through at the L'Amor... and no matter how much you'd like to forget, that was the peak of your career." Lien shoved King harder against the table and the jagged glass threatened to burrow deeper and thicken the stain of blood beneath the French woman's purple garb.

"You can fight through these tournaments with Yuri, with Mai, with whoever you can find comfort with, but you'll never escape the past..." Lien's grim words vibrated far too deep against her foe; she was up close with one of King's ears by this point, whispering intensely. "You'll never escape what you were best known for...

… _being Mr. Big's_ _ **bitch.**_ "

Two ticks of utter silence fell... and then Lien felt an abrupt thump of force walloping her in between the legs; King had swung her left leg upwards, her kneecap crashing in with enough force to damn near crack her cunt through the tight clothing. The kick seemed so strong in its snapping force that it _lifted_ Lien a couple inches off her feet just before she fully realized the power and let her legs nearly quake underneath herself.

Though the Brit was more aggravated by the strike than in pure pain, she was in for some worse things to come if that silent anger across King's face wordlessly said anything – and then the bar-owner did a backflip that sent one of her feet kicking straight up against Lien's jaw, flung her across the combat zone and sent her crashing through another one of the tables, smashing it into a mess of splintered wood.

The dust settled for a brief moment between the blondes doing battle – but Lien was _not_ completely out of the running just yet, as she was still moving, although slowly as the two crushing blows against her took her down pretty badly. She was even coughing up a bit of blood as at least one tooth in her mouth seemed out of place, dripping some redness on the nice carpeted floor.

"I tried to warn you..." King's voice run out from beyond the chunks of the furniture covering Lien's way – just barely, she saw the French kicker extract the glass from the side of her waist, only barely flinching, and hold it within her grasp with a casual flair.

"Now I'm already done with your bullshit." King lobbed the red-tipped glass shard a slight into the air, and then flung herself in a spin to kick it across – its target was clear and technically landed itself against it... even if it only landed onto one of the glowing green ornaments pieced about on the shoulders of Lien's jumpsuit.

It still did a number, as the glass buried deep enough to knick into Lien's shoulder beneath the gear and caused her to wince slightly in pain. She didn't see the next move coming, as King leapt over the broken table and smashed her foot against the side of Lien's face to knock her back down, and then stomped down against the Brit's neck to _keep_ her down.

King then said, "If you think I'm willing to back down from the torture, you got another thing coming."

Even as the boot of the beautiful kicker squeezed down against her throat to try "Just as I thought – so angry... but _so stupid_." The glowing charge in the damaged orb fizzled out by this point... and then started to emit an ominous smoke of green.

It didn't take long for King to notice the smoke spreading like wildfire around the scene. "Ah, _dammit_..." With the green fog slowly enveloping the world around her, King had to fight through with an obscured vision, especially once Lien somehow managed to sneak out of the situation beneath the foot pressing against her. " _Putain de merde,_ " she briefly cursed in her home language. " _Fils de pute,_ where are you!?"

For a little less than a minute beyond this moment, King had to slowly maneuver her way through such a battered battleground of a bar-room as the fog thickened and left her having to avoid tripping over the scattered pieces of wood left around the room. It definitely felt a lot longer with the struggle to see being ongoing, but she started to feel rewarded by the end as she saw the silhouette of Lien walking by, seemingly attempting to attack her first.

She swung a kick around with a blind-ish roundhouse... but the silhouette ducked so smoothly, and reacted with its own attack, as half-expected – although the other half of her didn't expect such a clonking blow on the back of her head, as something really hard and _metallic_ smashed behind her skull and nearly knocked her straight onto her face on the ground.

King spent the next minute on the ground, writhing momentarily as the potential concussion seemed to set its course. Facing up towards the fog-obscured ceiling, she saw nothing but a dark green for a moment... until a brighter green glow faded into her sights alongside the silhouette of that assassin. Sporting a pair of goggles that helped her through the smoke, Lien looked down at her opponent, clutching onto the metal gauntlet on her right wrist, giving an implication of just what exactly struck King down. Although the assassin seemed so cocksure at the moment, there was no hiding the depleted stamina from the match gone by, as she had a bit of a short breath within her.

Despite the significant exhaustion throughout, Lien 'lamented' the sudden downfall of the woman beneath her. "Such a shame, really. You were prepared to fight for the opportunity – but when your anger gets the best of you, you don't seem to think in regards of _everything_ going on around you."

As she taunted down to her opponent, her foot suddenly crashed down against King's left knee, the same one that earlier tried to knock the advantage out of the assassin after she pressed too many buttons. She stomped _several times_ , in fact, to the point where one of the final stomps of the set seemed to emit a bit of a crunch – something had definitely broken there.

"Ugh... _brûle en l'enfe—_ eagh!" Retaliating to the potentially shattering blows she took to the leg, King swung a punch upwards at her opponent, but just like at the very start of the match, it was caught into Lien's arms, and she reeled the bar owner much closer as she clung onto King with an enclosing choke-hold.

The smoke was slowly fading away as the air conditioning of the room dealt with it personally, and when everything cleared up – especially for the cameras that were obscured for minutes on an end all the while – the central image was of Lien keeping her body close to King's, strangulating her opponent with tightened arms. King's face was forcibly pressed against the sizable bosom of the assassin – normally, that would seem like an absolute wet dream for most people, but when it was a combination of Lien's pair smothering King with no restraint, and her arms tightening around the French foe's neck, it would feel so much closer to a sensual nightmare if anything.

As she spent more time within the asphyxiating hold, King's struggles grew less and less successful as she swung fists wildly against Lien's back, and her legs flailed beneath with a feeling of helplessness. Her body had fallen too deep to the struggle that she wasn't able to think or fight properly by this point.

Eventually, King's sight fell into a blur – at least as much of a blur as she could see beyond the skin of her opponent's chest – as it all set in around her. She gradually lost the feeling of her whole body piece by piece, from her arms and then her legs, as she faded out of consciousness. By the time she was freed from the clutch, she was limp and her mind was blacked out as her body laid flat against the floor.

Lien looked down with an accomplished grin on her face, examining the unconscious body before her, as it was her latest 'work of art' in her long line of defeated fighters.

" _Bonne nuit,_ madam..." The lick of taunting French escaped her tongue as she lined a finger across her defeated, unconscious opponent's straightened lips, and the assassin loomed over the other's body for a while longer before leaving the scene amongst the eerie silence of the match's aftermath.

 **WINNER: Lien Neville**

Another of the _King of Fighters'_ first generation had fallen in the first-round – things were likely to be more intense from here...

* * *

Lien Neville's victory rung through the competition – those who won and those who had yet to compete were certainly put on notice, perhaps further so than earlier victors with such a threatening edge like Vice and Nagase.

Alice, among the more novice fighters of the remaining bunch, was no exception to the intimidated collective, being rattled to the bone by the defeat of one of her more experienced partners by the hands of the hostile Brit.

"Are you _really_ that surprised?"

Alice's eyes eeked to the right – had grazed up to her at the moment, slightly sweaty and fresh off her own match some minutes before the Lien/King bout. Compared to the Fatal Cutie, Nagase knew a thing or two about Lien, and she surprisingly looked impressed, and for good reason.

Nagase admitted, "I've seen the shit she can do, personally – say what you want, but she's no slacker on her craft. Just be lucky she didn't straight up break your friend's neck."

Upon the end of that last sentence, Nagase swiped a palm across the backside of Alice's short-shorts, before she confidently scampered off on her own accord. The self-taught Southtowner was standing almost comatose in reaction to the previous match's end up until this point, where she was sparked with confusion over that weird ninja girl that she barely knew. She had _several_ questions already.

"W-wait, who-!?" Before she could finish her sentence, Alice watched Nagase vanish from her sight in a puff of flame, and her brief run stopped as quickly as it began.

She was truly by herself at the moment – and it truly set in that this tournament was likely going to give her hell from the first round beyond.

"...Aw, _fuck_..."

* * *

 **Next Chapter: Ms. Garnet Nakata is in for a lot of shit, I imagine... find out who she's slated to face off against next time! Also maybe a little bit of a look at how some of the losers are dealing with their injuries – maybe someone new will cameo... ;)**


	16. R1: Alice vs Angel

With all the combat ensuing around the mansion, it would be surprising if there _weren't_ some clear injuries going about during just the first round alone – as mentioned very occasionally over the past nine matches, competitors have had to get their injuries tended to, and separate rooms were incorporated between the losers and the winners who came out of their bouts with some damage taken.

By this point, as seen not much earlier on, B. Jenet was the only one to have come and gone from the room, as she got off a bit easy in her defeat compared to most of the other losers, and King had yet to arrive after her loss, although it wouldn't be surprising if she was in the process of being taken in to this room. As for everyone else...

Vanessa was kind of a disheveled mess at the moment after Luong whooped her ass to hell and back – and her hair was ruffled and powered by the chunks and dust from the wall that she crashed her head through. Outside of the concussion, she didn't seem in too bad condition, and she was looking to go straight back to the alcohol once she checked out of the hospital… room... place. Arina was a similar case to Vanessa, being plastered with concrete after being blown _completely_ through a wall unlike the boxing agent.

Sylvie probably experienced among the most damage in the end and aftermath of her match – getting splashed into a malfunctioning mess was not good on her generally-boggled mind. Ash's fit of flames towards her way didn't help anything to her condition. Regardless, she _seemed_ positive with her happy-ish nature, even though she was covered in sooth, zap marks and was overall still relatively wet from the water spirits quote-unquote 'blessing the rains' down on her.

Fio – yeeeaah, forget what was initially stated about Sylvie; it was the young soldier who took more of a toll following the punishment _she_ took at the hands of the Hakkesshu. She was still only barely conscious by this point, and thank god it wasn't any worse...

The conditions of Malin and Kisarah were amusingly similar, their clothes in the midst of a mess after being blown away in similar fashions by Nagase and Athena respectively. They were in very stable conditions regardless, although Malin had freshly regained consciousness in comparison.

And then we come to the cosplayer, Kyoko – a girl who didn't ask for all this insanity yet should've known what she was getting into to begin with. She was likely thankful that her Kyo costume wasn't _too_ roughed up, as she was paired with Moe Habana, someone who was willing to respectfully compete against her despite the inexperience of the cosplayer. Chizuru insisted, by Elisabeth's request, that she stayed in that room while the other defeated competitors gradually piled in throughout the first round's proceedings.

Though her fight was a fair ways back – being the very first of the whole tournament – Kyoko was still a bit sore, likely a side effect to her inexperience, and her pain tolerance being fairly low compared to those who had _legitimate_ experience. Wrapping herself in the plain white sheets of the bed, she groaned with such a mild annoyance to her surroundings.

"Are you feeling okay with your accommodations, miss?"

Kyoko muffled out another peevish groan at the polite voice that approached her. She was too bunched in her sheets to bother looking at who she assumed ( _rather correctly, to admit ahead_ ) was a nurse that Elisabeth appointed just for the tournament, and by this point, the cosplayer just wanted to get out of hospice and move on with her normal life.

"Someone's a little turd-faced today, eh?" Malin had the bed on the right side of Kyoko's, and despite her somewhat more fucked condition compared to the cosplayer, she seemed to be feeling at most decent in her recovery.

Shifting around a little to poke her head out from her bed-sheet cocoon, Kyoko spoke out. "You ever just feel like you should've just stayed in bed?"

Malin responded after a brief thought, "Yeah... not really... sounds like you're just sort of a lightweight to this whole 'fighting' thing."

Kyoko recognized the analogy the speedy girl tried to put together, and was quick to sandbag it. "Don't think that makes as much sense as it does for getting drunk."

Malin stuttered briefly. "I'm trying to—I just got blasted with fuckin' fire, alright?" She gestured to her burnt clothing as evidence to what she went through to a losing effort – the chi-explosion she took definitely set a difference between her and the cosplayer's conditions. "I'm not exactly focused on caring about you right now..."

" _No one_ cares about me – and I guess that's for a reason; I'm just some Kyo fanboy."

"Ugh – don't be like that," Malin stated some assurance towards the cosplayer. "You're a Kyo fanboy that _didn't_ become a bawling mess after one fight. If anything, that's worth appreciating yourself for – you just shouldn't give a fuck about what everyone else says and do you... or whatever kind of cliched bullshit they say sometimes."

Kyoko would be lying to herself in saying the pep talk wasn't effective – even then, it was kind of an odd bit of assurance to boot. "...Uh, thanks?"

"Trying what I got," said Malin. "I have dreams, too – kinda wanna bang my crush like it's the main event to a porno."

"...Ooookay..."

"Who knows, maybe you'll get laid someday, too."

"Do you think it'll be with Kyo?" The cosplayer asking the true questions.

And Malin provided... uncertain answers. "That... sorta depends if he and Yuki stop getting it on. Just... hold onto hope or somethin'."

For a young kid with a rascally attitude, Malin was certainly trying to make a point with the cosplayer – even if it wasn't the most optimal sort of advice that Kyoko was being given, it was better than nothing.

"I... don't see why you need this many pillows..." That maybe-nurse was heard behind Kyoko again, talking with the person in bed to the cosplayer's left...

"Teeheheheee~! I can't help it, they're so comfy!" Sylvie's grating voice sounded off, _immediately_ irritating Kyoko down to her core.

The cosplayer rolled over, _still_ wrapped in her sheets. "Alright, could you just shut uuuuu _whoooaaa butt!_ "

She was expecting a messy fort around the electrified idol's bed by this point, having dealt with the girl for most of the day – what she was not expecting to see was an up-close look at a well-endowed booty, belonging to the rather revealing maid's outfit of the obedient black-haired caretaker.

"Is something the problem?" The feathery-attired servant, simply known as Iroha, asked, paying some worry to the Kyo fangirl after that outburst. She was met with nothing but an overwhelmed silence from the now-blushing Kyoko.

The subtleties in the awkward interaction were not lost on Paula Paula, who delved into a deeper giggly fit. "Pfft-heheheheeh~! She likes your butt!"

The NESTS reject wasn't wrong – she wasn't right either about Cosplayer Kyoko, who simply stared at the surprisingly thick rear of the maid/nurse/whatever-else lady. There was something about the black thong that left barely anything to the imagination that just made it so much of a sight, especially mere inches from where her face was – and this was in a house filled with some ladies with rather sexy apparel – _see: Lien, Mai, Angel, Luong_...

With stuff like that wiggling around in her face, the cosplayer was hoping this place didn't awaken anything in her by the end of the tourney.

* * *

 **OPENING ROUND – MATCH #10  
** **Alice Garnet Nakata vs. Angel**

The locale of this fight was basically a makeshift gym, and naturally, someone was bound to get some last-minute workouts before their match-up. It was only convenient it was the combat zone for at least one match in the tournament's initial round.

Chucking down a heavy dumbbell like it was as light as a simple feather, Angel brushed the dust off her hands after her good little workout.

All she needed was her vict—erm, opponent, to arrive, and her patience – her usual _lack_ of it, it could be said – was helped by her self-admiration in the nearby full-body mirror sitting on one of the upright columns supporting the ceiling above.

Being among countless enhanced agents as part of NESTS, the biker chick was gifted the strength to throw around just about anything that got in her way, and in the tournament, with her Muay Thai-infused grappling skills, she was ready to give whoever a personal trip to Suplex City.

Angel was quickly fascinated by her sexy-sadist build reflecting off the tall mirror, like an enamored cat – and also like a cat, she purred as she flexed and posed for herself in that mirror. Her toned yet curvy build was somewhat of a redundant feature with the enhancements she gained from the organization, but she was one to be a tease, and to be the sexy beast she wanted to be. If given the chance to fuck herself, she _definitely_ would.

"Yep... still lookin' as hot as ever—"

Suddenly, she was propelled forward towards the mirror by a rushing knee straight to the spine – thankfully she managed to stop herself from completely crashing into and shattering that mirror, but it didn't cushion her frustration towards the sneak attack.

Speaking of the attack _er_ – having delivered the surprise strike, Alice succeeded in what she wanted to do to start the match, getting one over on her opponent from the very start of the fight. She cheered to herself, "Yes~! Now's my chance!" Aaaaand then Alice got promptly tackled to the cold, hard ground by the Mexican vixen.

Angel's broad smile of sadistic retaliation read like a Cheshire cat. "Oh, so you wanna play like that, eh, _puta?_ " She grabbed Alice and lifted her back to her feet with ease. "Alright then – let's play!"

 _ **FIGHT!**_

Angel initially engaged her fair share of combat by tightening Alice into a headlock and charging back towards the mirror. Cushioned only, and just barely, by her ' _Fatal Fury_ ' cap, Alice was smashed head-first into the glass mirror, putting a heavy crack in the middle of it as she crashed into it, and was left to stumble to her knees in grogginess.

The young blonde was _definitely_ regretting that sneak attack, and how it was gradually meaning completely nothing after that early blow to her head. The hairline crack of the mirror, chipping out bits of glass, somehow only managed to slightly scratch up Alice's head, so not enough to render blood.

Angel was _very_ willing to change that, however, as she grabbed Alice by her hair and hat, ready to deliver more punishment. "You want some more, little girl~!?", she asked, already having decided the answer

"N-no!" Alice thrusted a couple of kicks forward at Angel's toned abs, barely budging her. A following slap across the Mexican psycho's face caused more of a significant flinch, but her right hand remained on Alice's increasingly disheveled hair as she slowly made a pace around.

Angel again aimed for the broken mirror, like a dart towards a dartboard, and rushed ahead for it again – but when she started to shove Alice's face forward, the Fatal Cutie halted the advance with a foot pressing against the mirror from just inches to impact. Surprisingly, she settled a bit of a concrete position that kept Angel from fully enacting another smashing attack – and even more surprising was that Alice managed to hoof her other foot against the wall before enacting a decent if slightly sloppy wall-run up and over into a backflip that brought her behind her opponent.

Alice harshly shoved Angel against the mirror-holding pillar, but the NESTS agent braced the impact, her leather-jacket wrapped bosom cushioning against the mirror as she clung onto the column. Angel blindly thrusted a kick behind herself, managing to nail Alice in the gut as she walked backwards, did a back-to-back roll over Alice to again reverse the situation, and tossed her across with a backwards snapmare into a crossface-style headlock on the ground.

Angel's fingers fish-hooked on both sides of Alice's mouth, pulling so roughly on the Fatal Cutie with no holding. She purred, "I can't help but make girls like you scream – it gets me so _hot_ sometimes!" She pulled harder on the last couple emphasized words, forcing another shriek out of Alice as she struggled to escape.

Eventually, somehow, Alice used her pure power – whatever she was able to build up at least – and managed to get herself and her adversary to their feet. Jabbing continually with rough elbows, she soon found herself being released from the hold as Angel changed up her plans and went straight to her pure Muay Thai strikes starting with a swinging high kick that swiped across Alice's face with ferocity.

This left Alice's cap hanging much looser on her head, nearly hanging by an ear as she stumbled back into her fighting pose and continued to engage the rebellious NESTS agent with punches that had a dangerously high rate of failing whiffs. This wound up leading her into the wrong end of another headlock as Angel's arms threatened to crunch around the Fatal Cutie's neck.

Ultimately, Alice decided to rely on her cap for an advantage, pulling it down over Angel's head until it enveloped over the front of her face.

Angel realized the hat covering her a little too late, and her frustration muffled harshly. "Mmph! Whmm d'mm f'hmmk!?" As she struggled with the hat that obscured her sight, she couldn't see her opponent sliding under, between her legs, to get behind her.

Alice took the opportunity as best as she possibly could, by kicking square in the middle of her spine and then following up by pouncing over her from behind. Alice's knees intended to drive Angel down onto her face, but if she wanted to be sure gravity was on her side for the attack, she would want to make sure the hat stretched over her opponent's face didn't wind up slipping off partway. _It did._

The cap escaping the snag over her face, Angel quickly got her bearings back and tossed the young blonde off and over, forcing them back into the idle, face-to-face position.

The enhanced fighter had to know there was no more playing around with her adversary, especially since Alice actually managed a bit of good offense on her. Angel was ready to put those NESTS enhancements to further use, as she dashed towards Alice with such speed that she _teleported through_ the girl and confused the hell out of her.

"Over here, _cabrón._ " Angel swung a piercing elbow straight to the back of Alice's skull, reeling her forward into a deep grogginess. The combo continued as she translocated back to the front of Alice and kneed her upside the jaw, then warped behind her with another elbow that aimed at the bottom of her spine to leave her stinging all over.

This culminated in Angel draping an arm across Alice's body and dropping her straight to the ground with _not_ the ' _Rock Bottom_ ' – but rather the legally-distinct ' _Blue Monday Parade_ ', to leave the Fatal Cutie spread out on the hard flooring of the 'gym'. Angel's pro-wrestling inspiration knew no bounds, for sure, as she took her time with the downed opposition, providing some speedy theatrics with some teleporting dashes all around before preparing to drop the elbow with the ' _Survivor's Banquet_ '.

Although still muddled mentally after taking such a harsh slam to the solid flooring, Alice was able to still have enough of her mind to panic and roll away at the last second – this led Angel's maniacal elbow to crash into nothing but the floor, and if the ' _Parade_ ' provided a devastating landing on its own, then intentionally driving an elbow against someone meant a larger risk if it missed, and it definitely did; Angel recoiled her arm in a mixture of pain and frustration as she slowly dragged herself back to her feet.

Meanwhile, while looking to catch her breath before capitalizing on her rare opportunity to get the KO, Alice was standing a few feet away, semi-numb at the core as she prepared for a running start.

"It's over!" Alice proclaimed loudly as she dashed ahead and clobbered Angel first with another knee, then bopped her upside with a fist dropping down.

The next strike was to get a bit of a footstool stomp over and swipe her adversary's face straight into the pavement, hopefully delivering the knockout blow – with another short running start, Alice was at a good start with the footstool, but as she started to leap over, she instead found herself draping over one of Angel's shoulders, as if she got stuck on something.

In case you were wondering, yes, poor Alice was stuck – although in a quite awkwardly interesting way, as the front half of her stair-stomping right foot found itself burrowing straight into Angel's cleavage and getting locked into an unintentional, and amusingly literal, booby-trap

It didn't take very long for Angel to realize Alice's opportunity ruined itself, and the jacket-clad agent laughed at the expense of the novice blonde. "Seriously? Get that shit outta here!" She dropped Alice with a slam that was partially in a 'Samoan Drop' position, and then distanced herself from her opponent after leaving her laying, with much assumption that she managed something close to a KO.

After a moment to wipe the dust on her leather jacket, built from grazing against the floor again and again, Angel eventually looked back once she still heard her opponent groaning. "Ugh – you still cryin', kid?"

Admittedly, there was a reason for Alice's vocal discomfort – it wasn't necessarily because of that slam she just took, but rather the horrific pain in her right ankle. Getting it stuck within Angel's cleavage was bad enough for the Fatal Fury fangirl – but she swore she felt and _heard_ something snap down there, and her assumption was unfortunately correct. "Ugh, god... _dammit_ , I think I broke something..."

The injury situation was a little fascinating for Angel, who just casually taunted, "Maybe try walkin' it off? To me, something like that's less than a papercut."

Although it probably wasn't the best idea, the fighting spirit Alice kept close to her heart was considering it. "Might as well – I'm not going down like _that_." She slowly helped herself to her feet, and all _almost_ looked well... but then her right foot cricked at an awful angle once she tried standing on it, and she flopped back down. "Ahh~! _Fuckfuckfuck_ , I'm going down like that... _oh goddammit_..."

Before long, Alice was rendered to agonized whimpers, almost driven to tears as she held her broken ankle close in a partial fetal position. She fucked up her chances, fucked them up _badly_...

Angel simply rolled her eyes and started walking away. "Pussy."

 **WINNER (by default): Angel**

* * *

 **I'm gonna be honest, the action's kinda getting me worked up a little bit, since I needed to make sure each and every match got some good action at least, even if some matches wound up more one-sided than the standard. That's part of why I usually have a segment with some outside-action interactions, the other building some developments around the tourney. Also, I'm gonna post a non-KOF story soon, too, so there might be a little wait for the next chapter, and slightly longer than that for the next match.  
**

 **Next Chapter: A little bit of cooldown between matches as we catch up on a few winners of previous matches – or will it be just more heat to the flame as lust spreads through the air?**


	17. INTERLUDE: The Blaze, In Heat

The Psycho Soldier knew from the start that putting on that old-school attire, while having the growing body she developed over some years, was a wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen – and she was right. Ever since the end of her preliminaries, Athena chose to repress herself to her room and just hang around on her bed, watching the next few matches ensue. Eventually, she decided she was taking the most uneventful approach to her awkward ordeal, and started considering methods to seal up the tear in her spats so she wouldn't wind up going around the mansion for the rest of the tournament with her butt exposed to the elements.

It was around between the Lien/King and Alice/Angel matches that finally decided to go wandering around for the nearest bathroom – which she reached without problems, or encounters.

However, as soon as she came up to the door, it swung open and the edge of it slapped her face, knocking her down. Given the situation at hand, it was basically insult to injury. _Tremendous._

Clearly someone was finishing up their business, as the finalizing flush heard prior seemed to confirm.

As Athena held her nose from the door mostly swiping across it on impact, that 'someone' was heard from the other side. "Whoop~! Oops, I'm sorry...!"

And that 'someone' was Mignon, another of those who advanced to the next round of the tournament. As soon as she got a glance at on the ground, her brief worry turned into a wee giggle at the expense of her 'rival'. "Nevermind – Mignon rescinds her 'sorry'."

Athena sighed, having no time for the witch after just two sentences from her. "You again. Could you excuse me for a second? I gotta sort things out..."

Mignon responded by stretching a leg across one side of the doorway while leaning on the other, further denying Athena's entry. "Tut-tut, Asamiya – we have much to discuss." She awkwardly had her hands behind her back, as if to look a little more smug.

"No, we don't," Athena retorted. "Please, step aside."

Athena started to push through the stupid blockade, but Mignon's attempts to settle herself into a concrete position kept her at bay, especially when the witch propped her other leg across the doorway, leaving that the only thing keeping her from sliding down and planting herself on her butt... for all of five seconds before exactly _that_ happened.

Athena knew how stupid was Mignon starting to make herself look, but she decided she had to deal with this situation first and foremost. "Okay... what do you want?"

Mignon was getting up and dusting herself off as she explained herself, "Rivals are meant to clash time and time again – and after the stunt _you_ wound up in, you should know the consequences."

It was only a matter of time before that incident was brought into discussion – while certainly embarrassing, Athena powered through her slightly blushy self. "'Consequences'? I _kinda_ doubt that – this whole tournament's a private matter, it won't be hard to just forget it happened. You'd understand that, right?"

Mignon's expression grew sheepishly clever, and her hands hid deeper behind her back.

Reading the expression of the witch before her, Athena started to feel whelmed by confused suspicion, and sensing the jumpy aura of the pink oddity gave further results. "Mignon – I can tell you want to say _something_. Just tell me."

" _Welllll..._ it _could_ be forgotten... but Mignon's phone _might_ say otherwise..." Deciding to hide a little secret no longer, Mignon unveiled one of her delicately gloved hands, and her smartphone, as pink as her hair, shone with an image taken of one of the mansion's TVs, with the contextless image of a post-bout Athena bent over in her torn-open shorts looking very clear in the center of it.

The moment may not have lasted forever, but a picture speaks longer – as soon as that thought came to mind, Athena realized something was on the witch's mind about it, but no words were yet said before Mignon spoke up herself.

The colorful witch said to solder the silence, "I bet it looks bad to relive – and it'll probably be worse once it 'leaks out'..."

Athena knew _immediately_ what the pinkette meant, and she was kinda irritated with the desperate ply from the get-go. "Oh god, here we go..." She rolled her eyes as Mignon started a bit of a monologue to explain herself further...

"Part of your career is the image you uphold, is it not? To be the role model for the next generation?" Mignon's explanation was reeking of more than a slight cliché by this point. "What would you think would happen if all your young fans saw the exposure of a whole different side of the Psycho Sold—"

"Oh, _shut up..._ "

Being interrupted left Mignon a little flummoxed. "Uh, w-wha~?"

Athena's arms crossed with complete unamusement. "You're seriously trying that 'embarrassment on the internet' plan on someone like me? I've had more than enough teenage fans plop messages on my social media about how much they'd want to sleep with me in _way too much_ detail than necessary. Weren't your initial plans just to want to find out if your powers were stronger than mine?"

Mignon's composure slowly started to collapse as she was quickly called out. "I-I was getting to that part! I was gonna-"

Athena abruptly finished the sentence for the shrill girl. "'-ransom you over the butt pic for a match once and for all to settle who has the better magic.' There, I just saved you a bit of breath – now be 'the good witch' and just delete the photo and we can hopefully settle it when the second round comes, okay?"

Panicking for an alternate plan on the spot, Mignon hid the phone away from Athena's reach. "N-no! I won't let you get the better of me yet!"

Athena scoffed at that statement. "Well, if your initial plan doesn't mean anything anymore for it, then what else could you use it for?"

"You'll see! We'll bump shoulders again soon enough – but for now, _I gotta go_." Mignon attempted to scamper past, but Athena stretched her arms around and blocked the witch's path in return – a little bit of a role-reversal to a moment earlier with Mignon now being the one who was struggling. "Nng! Hey, let me go!"

Athena was dealing with the struggling goofball quite easily, and she smiled confidently at her quote-unquote 'rival'. "Toss the photo and _maybe_ I'll consider it."

Mignon hissed like an angered kitten as she tried to claw at Athena's back – but her gloves had no sort of sharpness to actually cling on to the Psycho Solder. "Ergh, how dare you!? You're going to be showing even _more_ skin when Mignon's done with you!"

Athena continued to reason, "You're doing a better job embarrassing _yourself_ than you are to me. Might as well just-"

"NO!"

Mignon tackled her 'rival' down to the ground, and it was culminating in a rolling mess of a catfight where both girls were clinging onto Mignon's phone in a power struggle – a ridiculous little scene was being made with barely anybody on location to witness the clash.

Well, maybe one person was. " _Ah, mon dieu_ , get a room, you two..."

Winding up on the bottom of a compromising position beneath Mignon, Athena was the first of the two to recognize the red figure of Ash leaning by the corner of the hall, looking on with his signature smugness.

Having sensed an intriguing essence ( _moreso than the Hakkesshu_ ) around the mansion, throughout the proceedings of the tournament, the Psycho Soldier had a feeling the guy was at least a spectator, but Athena chose to let it be since she doubted Elisabeth would've allowed Ash anything further than that. From the positioning and posture of how the French enigma stood, and the confidence of his aura, he had been standing by for more than a little while.

Awkwardly staring ahead alongside an uneased Mignon, Athena finally piped up. "...How much of our conversation did you hear?"

Ash replied, "Don't be so worried about it, _petit_ – I only heard the whole thing... and if anything, I'm siding with you."

Slightly disturbed by the presence of the flame-bearer, Mignon whimpered in worry for her awkward ego. "Mignon doesn't like being outnumbered here..."

"Calm yourself, kitty – I'm not here to hurt you... at least, not physically." Grabbing onto her shoulders, Ash lifted Mignon off of Athena's prone body and settled a position behind the witch. "As for your plan – well, Athena said it best; too many horny boys worshiping the ground she stands on to ever turn against her for one measly pic. In fact, it'd probably make her even more of a valuable piece of ass than before."

Athena blushed as she almost let the concept get to her head. "I... I wouldn't say that..." She giggled awkwardly as she fiddled with some of her hairs that were hanging loose from the disheveling rustle.

"You were _definitely_ thinking it, though." Ash was still grasped onto Mignon's shoulders, almost leaning against her as he spoke. "Even the most pure spirits tend to have a dirty thought or two about the guys who want to get with them – and you're absolutely bound to find someone to _bond_ with, if you catch my drift. As for this fruitcake... well, maybe luck will come your way."

Speaking of, Mignon was almost frozen stiff by this point, over Ash's presence. It was up until this second that she didn't say a word to interrupt, and she eventually commented on the position she found herself in. "Sir... please don't press against me like that," she meekly said.

Unsafe to admit, but Ash _did_ seem to be getting off a little being so close to a girl like Mignon. He kinda figured her as a very manipulable girl, and his excitement showed in a way that was starting to prod against the witch's lower back.

Ultimately, he had to separate himself from Mignon's presence. "Suit yourself... but my door is always open if you're—"

" _No I'm not, not at all!_ " Mignon started to scamper away before the blush on her face made her look like a living tomato, as she again reentered her bombastic shrill tone. "You're such a creep, whoever you are – go prey on Athena if you're so willing to take someone's virginity!"

Ash let his hands rise to his sides, as if he didn't want to really touch on that topic. "Okay, I wasn't going to say anything about you being a virgin—"

" _You were thinking it!_ " Mignon shouted in her interruption. "Lady Blanctorche would be ashamed of you being here... and Mignon would rather leave before this hall is tainted further..."

" _Turn around, sweetie._ "

Mignon immediately turned as demanded and yelped as she was met with the presence of Hakkesshu's duo of Mature and Vice – still looking as vicious as ever despite the redhead being in the midst of recovery from her own earlier bout.

Grimacing with such awkward fear towards everything around her – mainly as she was left scared shitless from this moment – Mignon's bombastic nature again fizzled out as she decided it was best to exit quickly. "...I'm just gonna go before someone else sneaks up behind me." She then scampered off, her cartoonishly bouncy footsteps fading into the distance.

"Yeesh – even if we _don't_ speak of the Devil, it shall appear..." This was how Ash chose to disrespectfully greet the sinister secretaries, before his attention settled on Vice. "How's the stab wound?"

"I'll walk it off," Vice bluntly retorted. Even if it still hurt like hell when it initially happened, she was at least still in one piece unlike earlier life-taking incidents. "Though on any day, I'd rather get stabbed _again_ then bump into you."

Mature spoke up next, "I'm surprised Elisabeth's still letting you hang around – would've figured she'd whip you out to the curb by now..."

"After that whole incident with the electric girl, she'd probably I rather linger around in case someone else tries to have her head." Even Ash knew of how ridiculous Sylvie could be sometimes... "I feel like she'd be worried more about what _you_ might do in this tournament, given your alignments, and your... _violent_ tendencies."

"No shit, Frenchie," said Vice. "No one's fuckin' perfect – like Athena lying by over there. If she had a mind, she'd kick you to the curb on Betty's behalf."

Athena was finally back into focus somewhat, as she started to get up off the ground. "Well... he's not exactly hurting anybody... _not right now_ , at least."

Mature smirked. "And isn't that surprising – after your little malfunction, somehow he _didn't_ pounce on you the moment?" Her focus turned to the man. "That's so unlike what we've expected of you, Ash."

Ash shrugged, completely unashamed by the comments thrown his way. "If I wanted to, I definitely would've tried my chances – but there's plenty of fish around..."

Vice objected, immediately recognizing a slightly sultry glance her and Mature's way from the young man. "If you're looking our way, then look elsewhere, perv." Further emphasizing the collective rejection from the Hakkesshu to the Crimson enigma, Vice allowed her partner a kiss on her hand.

Starting an exit from the scene, Mature declared, "We still have much to prepare for – and it doesn't involve either of you."

The duo strutted past Athena and Ash, passing by a couple doors before walking through the second one down from the bathroom, presumably to where they were appointed.

Feeling as if there wasn't much left to mingle about in that hallway alone, Ash looked about ready to just leave the scene altogether – but the curiosity about the situation left Athena no choice but to catch up to the young man's pursuit. "H-hold on a second!"

"Hmm?" Ash glanced back. "You actually considering a hook-up or something?"

Athena answered, "No, I'd absolutely rather not – but I'm probably _way_ too curious about why _you're_ here... you're not plotting anything, are you?"

Ash scoffed at the seeming accusation that started towards him. "If I was plotting something, I think you'd be able to tell just by reading my essence, and trust me, I _know_ you could."

He wasn't wrong – Athena could often gain insight about what someone could be planning for, just through her psychic output... but it wasn't exactly _perfect_. From the first read, the Psycho Soldier could find nothing in the guy that could trigger code-red in her head. "I... suppose I'm wrong about assuming something out of you."

"See? Nothing to worry about..."

"Though I do read something different – something _heated_ within you." The spiritual reading managed a little bit of a blush out of Athena as a result. "Well, I can see why you thought I was interested in you a second ago..."

Ash's peeking bangs wiggled with a certain confidence as he spoke. "It's almost like a man can't just mingle around and find a piece of tail without someone breathing down their neck..."

"And... you feel no shame about it?"

From how Ash stood his ground with credence, shame was not even a thought in his mind – probably _never_ was... "You think I should? Athena, sweetie, I'm one guy in a mansion full of ladies of all kinds – I think I'm entitled to even a _little_ bit of a harem, no?"

"Gonna be blunt – kinda cliché." Athena's retort was simple but effective.

"Would've figured you as someone who understood that type of stuff to just let it by," said Ash, "given you were born out of Japan. All the anime and manga, all the beautiful fantasies..."

"Yeah, _you_ definitely would assume, given I'm kind of a big deal in the pop idol business, but I wouldn't find the time for it. That and school... and... _oh wow_..." Her side of the conversation started to abruptly melt apart as she blushed harder from sensing _something_.

It kinda caught Ash off-guard, and caused a tiny chuckle out of him. "You okay?"

Athena regained her composure before long. "Uh... sorry, I just... I just felt something _fierce_ coming from over there..." Referring to the door at the side that she and Ash were standing at opposite sides of.

One should again note, that was the room the Hakkesshu ladies had just entered, and in all fairness to the situation, the sounds of something almost akin to fabric tearing could be very faint behind the closed door.

Athena was very hesitant to approach... "I... I don't think I should-"

" _You_ shouldn't – me on the other hand..." Ash was cocksure enough to not let the essence of whatever was 'fierce', plus he didn't have the psychic-reading powers that would overwhelm him just like the Psycho Soldier. He approached, with little caution, towards the door...

Athena said, "I hope they aren't doing anything akin to a sacrifice or something..."

"In Elisabeth's house? I absolutely doubt it..." Ash lingered an eye towards the peephole of the door, and was met with quite the sight. Good news was that the idea of something cultish going on in that room was nothing to worry about – thankfully, it was a lot more sensual...

From what he could make out from the peephole, Vice and Mature had gone from the blood-tasting foreplay that had briefly ensued after the former's match to just plain making out on the bed. Vice looked to be the more dominant side of the fling, as she had already torn through most of Mature's jacket and was on top of her on their bed of choice as she engaged in the intense intertwine of lips and tongue with her partner.

Just ten seconds worth of the action in that room had Ash completely invested, grinning with a bit of a horny edge as he continued to peep through. "Well well... I would've figured, being so inseparable..."

Taking Ash's comments close to mind, in regards to what was going on in there, Athena was starting to understand the _heat_ she was feeling through the door. "I take it there's nothing to worry out of there?"

"Not a bit," he answered back. "If anything, it's something worth seeing."

Athena was relieved, to say the least. "Can't believe I'm saying it, but thanks for that." With that out of the way, she quickly recollected what she was originally going to do before everything took a turn around her. "If you'll excuse me... I still need to-"

"Yeayeayeah, the whole... wardrobe malfunction stuff _,_ " Ash impatiently shooed the goddess-descendant away with one hand, while his other hand roamed down his own chest towards his _lower_ regions. "Just stop talking, _s'il vous plaît?_ "

Without needing to look back, Ash recognized Athena's exit into the bathroom nearby as he kept an eye locked on the door's peekhole and the _action_ ensuing on the other side. There was a risky, perverted art to this unnoticed surveillance that, though he rarely partook in, it still proved intriguing whenever he decided on push forward – especially with the vixens engaged this time around.

By this point, Vice had torn Mature's upper clothing down to the bra, and was grazing her tongue against the blonde's body, from the cleavage and further down. The violent redhead was going straight for her partner's snatch, taking advantage of Mature's already-growing wetness down there while paying no mind having to taste through the layers of clothing she still had on from the waist down.

They were going straight to business, of the sensual enigma, and Ash was incredibly fascinated – although the fascination was mostly built up _down there_ , and his hardness was pinned against his tight pants as he started feeling against it with the leather worn on his hands. Though the ladies of Hakkesshu were vicious in combat, at the moment he couldn't help but imagine the threesome he could have with them, and the orgasmic screams he'd bring out of them...

His left hand was burrowing just beneath the waistband of his pants, slowly fondling up and down his obscured member as he started to consider just resorting entirely to his self-gratifying temptations...

"Ahhh... _le pays de l'amour, après tout_..." Ash started to refer to the locale of this whole place – in the 'land of love', as part of it translated to from his home language, even a bit of _self-love_ was necessary sometimes. [Full French-to-English translation: 'the land of love, after all']

* * *

With no sloppiness in his movement, Ash spun himself backwards and through the barely-open door of the neighboring door to the Hakkesshu love-making, planting himself straight onto the nearest bed as he freed his cock from the prison of tight red leather and let his right hand go on autopilot. He shafted himself with no hesitation to his prime speed, his breathing quiet but gradually heavier as he continued further to his _session_...

The vision of Vice's hungry, roaming lips brushing down Mature's body was still fresh in Ash's head as he started, and he could swear he started hearing louder moans going on, muffled by the walls of this next room, just building to his crotchal pool as he shafted harder on himself, to the point where his clenched right hand smacked against his slightly loose, jingling belt.

Within a couple minutes of being so desperately deep in his twisted fantasy, he was already moaning and cumming over himself – the initial spurts came across like a busted water faucet, splattering onto his shirt with sprinkled white, before the rest oozed like a volcano, down the bottom end of his shaft and over his gloved hand in a messy outcome.

God knows how long it had been since Crimson had last dealt with such an urge, but the safe bet was that it had been a _while_ given the amount that had been expelled out of his loins, how quickly it rose out of him, and his panting exhaustion in the afterglow. He was just looking to be given further comfort once he finished, and it almost seemed like he was being given it as he felt something grazing around his face.

Hands. _Someone else's hands?_

For a moment, Ash felt very awkward about his current situation, almost feeling he was caught cum-handed and he didn't initially notice – those feelings started to evolve towards a more positive direction as he heard a welcoming giggle above. He glanced up and met, after the beautiful pink-clothed bust, the seductive smile and hair-hidden eyes of Shermie, the only one of the bunch who seemed actively interested in him.

The fellow French beauty looked quite acquainted by Ash's presence in the room with her, but she looked more attracted by the mess of cum all over his body. "Oh wow... wouldn't have figured you to have that much in you..."

Admittedly, Ash didn't expect to have a room to herself away from the other Orochi-bound ladies ( _implying the sinister secretaries didn't just bust into someone else's room_ ), but he was welcome to the acquaintance. He smiled with an almost innocent flair beneath what was usually considered as supreme smugness on the surface. " _Pardon_ if I caught you at a bad time – I guess I just needed _somewhere_ to unwind." He started to sit up, but a hand rested against his cum-stained chest as Shermie kept him laying down.

She said, "No-no... there's no need to worry about that – besides, now that you're here, and seeing what you're _capable of_... I'm feeling kinda... _experimental_... if you catch my drift."

Ash caught on quickly to the innuendo... "Hmm~... I've always figured you as being so eager, but not like this..."

Bending and posing with an enchanting edge to it all, Shermie crawled closer to Ash's cock, looking very pleasured already to its semi-erect presence. "When faced with something like this... I just can't help myself." Her lips being moistened by her tongue's roaming nature, she stuck it out and licked down from the base of his cock, the whole way up to his tip, brushing all the dripping cum off.

This earned her a bit of a shiver out of Ash as his cock twitched with newfound life, greeting the vivacious red-head with a silent hello as it re-hardened before her.

"I think it's happy to meet me," Shermie joked as she nuzzled her nose against the tensed penis, laying comfortably between Ash's legs. Despite being aligned with impure evil, she was always so playful, even in battle – it was kinda jarring going from that to her more embracing form whenever she needed to truly get one over her opponent in battle...

Shermie continued to tease the greeting member with kisses up the base until her lips met with the tip. From there, she let the cock give in to her mouth, taking the start of a very sensual voyage as inch upon inch leisurely traveled past her tongue.

Ash's hands showed more gratitude towards the lady giving head than he could with the moans purring out from his throat into closed lips, handling Shermie's delicate face with care as he felt about her features, especially her rose-red hair. Wordlessly begging for more, he wiggled his hips lightly, inching further of himself into her mouth. She greeted back with the start of a slow pace, giving little slurps to the meat straw her mouth was handling as she wiggled her head back to start some motion in it all.

The collective couple seemed to prefer the slower pace with the oral pleasures taking place, a far-away approach from Ash's hard and fast masturbatory ventures just minutes ago – and at this point, there was probably no going back to just handling himself, especially when he caught such a lucky break with the beauty going down on him.

Shermie's pace quickened slightly as she sucked down on her lucky man's length, handling it in her mouth and down her throat with ease. Ambiguous it was, her experience with cocks like this – the same could be said for the other side of the experience, but it was a little more clear on Ash's end that he probably hadn't gotten much in terms of _non-combative_ action the likes of this.

Ash's hands loomed higher and further back on Shermie's head until he eventually started to push down against her, sliding the entirety of his length into her mouth until her lips sank into contact with his base. Nearly drooling at the concept of another ropeful coming out of him, he eventually allowed Shermie a chance to let most of his length escape her mouth. Preparing to take the brunt of the climax, the pink-clad beauty was left with just the tip of her sex partner's cock nesting onto her tongue, as he stroked it to drive himself back to that combustible feeling.

" _Merde, juste là, juste là_... _Nngh~!_ " With a sharp grunt, Ash's cock unloaded for a second time in the space of the past ten minutes, pulsing within his hands and splattering away with beautiful recklessness as Shermie welcomed it onto her tongue. Rope upon rope of the whiteness ensued, nearly creating a mouth-wide pool of the cum in Shermie's mouth, and the sensation of the liquids held on her tongue made her giggle happily. Holding off on swallowing the sperm swirling in her mouth, she climbed up Ash's body, letting her breasts lightly graze past his softening cock, as she eventually met the flame-flinging debonair face-to-face – it was a bit of an interesting choice for her to press her cum-laced lips against his, engaging in a kiss that started to swap the semen between her mouth and his. The sensation of the sticky liquid swirling about in the middle of the rustling tongues between his and her's left Ash a little confused with the idea at first, but he grew to enjoy the taste of himself as he shared the afterglow of his orgasm with the eager lady.

As the two separated their lips from each other, the cum stringed between them in the mixture alongside their combined saliva.

" _Fuck..._ " Ash sighed in the relief of this blissful moment. "You really can do some special things – you should consider porn with a mouth like that..."

Shermie emitted a flattered giggle. "Maybe I could – if you happen to join me." She and Ash met lips again, and the cum load was further lost in the mingling of their spit.

There was no doubt about it, there was a special kind of love forming about between these two French lovebirds, and it seemed this tournament was slowly developing lust all around the place...

* * *

 **Next Chapter: Fresh out of the nice and smutty business that ensued here, Shermie dances into action!**


	18. R1: May Lee vs Shermie

The observation of the tournament, of all the things potentially going on at once, was not at all an easy task. The self-appointed hostess in Elisabeth had a lot of work that needed to be done, and that included the surveillance, which left her seeing more than she would've really wanted.

" _If I wanted to, I definitely would've tried my chances – but there's plenty of fish around..._ "

" _If you're looking our way, then look elsewhere, perv._ "

The conversations that Ash partook in with some of the participants thus far were about as she'd expect from someone so pompous and arrogant – and that was only the tip of it.

" _Fuck~ ...you really can do some special things... you should consider porn with a mouth like that._ "

" _Maybe I could, if you happen to join me._ "

The camera installed in _that room_ left much to be desired with the angle it provided, but Betty was, beyond what she'd admit, absolutely an unintended witness to the beginning of those naughty ventures around the mansion when Ash found himself alone with one certain individual in Shermie. You wouldn't want to get her started, either, on the animalistic love-making between Vice and Mature that happened at the same time, just one room over. This was all in _one_ interlude between matches, too, so seeing it all happen as the actual physical action wound down for the moment was a jarring experience, one that the prudent noblewoman would rather forget.

"Elisabeth...?"

As her head nearly started to lay against her desk in an attempt to hide away her minor frustrations, Elisabeth almost didn't hear her assistant in Chizuru call out at the doorway to the room.

"Are you alright?" the priestess asked.

Elisabeth sighed, having to admit to herself that things _could've_ been worse – that at least the tournament itself is going smoothly throughout the bulk of the first round. "Yeah... I guess so."

Chizuru looked a tad worked up from previous, unvisited circumstances elsewhere in the building. "Sorry if I was intruding a little on your work – I was busy helping out caretaker to some of the first-round victors... I almost forgot to stop by to see—"

"I'm handling myself _well_ with the proceedings so far, thank you," Elisabeth slightly interrupted. "It's just... there's _other_ things on the mind I've yet to wrap my head around..."

Glancing off to the side towards the various screens at that one wall of the room, Chizuru mostly took notice to the main monitor before the noblewoman, which was replaying the recording of a couple minutes back, of Ash and Shermie in the aftermath of their _hot moment_ together. A little bit whelmed by that intriguing romance, she faintly blushed as things clicked well in her head. "Well, I can start to see why..."

"Doubtful," said Elisabeth. "We've both had to deal with being burdened by someone's degeneracy – at least you dealt with your problems long ago."

The contrast between those 'problems' were clear in the Kagura maiden. "There's a thick line between Orochi and a gifted delinquent. Why haven't you just considered kicking Ash out?"

Even the clear questions left Elisabeth with tough decisions on the answer. "He'd probably sneak his way back in – and there would only be worse things to come from that, if his antics of the past usually meant anything. Think I'd rather he have his fun than have to escalate things because I'm always in his way."

Chizuru crossed one leg over another as she relaxed slightly more into the chair beside her cohort. The point was made, and she fully understood it. "I suppose I shouldn't object to your ideas – you know him better than anyone else..."

" _Unfortunately._ " Elisabeth's hands were buried slightly into her azure-blue hair by this point, staring deeper down towards her desk. "I know I shouldn't focus all my energy on him – he can have his fun, but hopefully he knows his boundaries before it's too late."

It was quite surreal, really – an annoyance hanging around your plans, only so out of reach to actually affecting it. It wasn't a blessing nor a curse, but it was an odd sort of convenience, especially in cases like Betty's brief ordeal with Sylvie. The tournament, for the most part, was going off well – that was what mattered most in this week, and it was hopefully good vibes from here...

* * *

 **OPENING ROUND – MATCH #11**  
 **May Lee Jinju vs. Shermie**

Shermie hummed happily to herself as she sauntered her way downstairs into the appointed zone for her match – the foyer of the mansion, where the first couple matches of the round took place earlier – and the French beauty was feeling refreshed after relieving her certain someone of their 'frustrations' some minutes ago. The fun she was having there almost made her forget about the tournament entirely, but when faced with an opportunity to shine in the spotlight, she would never back down from it.

Away from her line of sight, however, her opposition stood at higher ground – perched atop one of the wall-hung statues, the vigilant May Lee was surprisingly hidden well as she pulled a Dark Knight with her stealthy spot.

She thought to herself, " _You would've fooled me twice, if it was said this babe wouldn't hurt a fly... I know what she's up to, though... I know who she's aligned with... now's my chance, to strike evil where it aches most!_ "

The makeshift superhero got out of her half-kneeling and stood atop the stone-built decorating for a moment – if it was a little more windy inside this place, her red scarf would've looked a lot cooler in the motions of the moment. Nevertheless, she was going to make up for that with her freefall into the fray.

"Ki-yaaaa _aaaah~!_ " May Lee's kiai rang out loud as she dropped down at an angle, aiming straight at her opponent with an outstretched leg...

...only to _not_ meet contact with the back of Shermie's head, as the French charmer ducked down and casually evaded the sneak attack – this led to May Lee's unfortunate pratfall as she nearly twisted the hell out of her ankle upon impact and tumbled flat onto her butt a couple feet away from where her opponent squatted and giggled away.

"Hi~!" Shermie waved hello, greeting her opponent as if there _wasn't_ a fight about to happen between them.

"Rrgh... how did—how could—?" May Lee stammered as she stumbled back to her feet. "How could you _see_ me coming?"

Hair-obscured Shermie retorted, "Not as much as I could _hear_ you, _chéri._ " She stood back straight again, as she started to stretch about. "I could help you to not be so foolish if you want – I bet it'd be hard for _anyone_ to turn down some time with all _this_..." Her positions and poses as she flexed herself about provided a very provocative and suggestive image of herself towards the fight.

May Lee's face swelled up with a flummoxed red as she glanced on for maybe a little bit too long before shaking some sense into herself. "N-no! You're one of the bad girls! You _have_ to be brought to justice!"

"It's only when I let Orochi will me to, that I could _ever_ care about being on the dark side, cutie-pie," said Shermie. "You gotta let go of your motives sometimes if you wanna have fun with me – you wouldn't be the first, anyways..." Her tongue rolled around in her mouth, still feeling the aftertaste of love.

"I'll hold onto justice 'til I die!" May charged forward to lunge in for a kick – and she was immediately caught into her rival's embracing arms.

Shermie shrugged, finding no need to reason further. "Eh, suit yourself..."

 _ **FIGHT!**_

The battle immediately met its official start as soon as Shermie flexed herself backwards and slammed May Lee into the ground with a hard suplex slam. She seamlessly rolled back over with a flexible flip onto her feet, hugging onto the South Korean all the while as she intended on continuing the offense – however, May broke free before she could get slammed again, clobbering Shermie in the chest with two kicks and then springing away in a backflip that distanced herself.

May Lee charged forward again, with a fist thrusting for her opponent's face – but the Frenchwoman caught the hand before it made contact, and it was then that Shermie realized the buildup of electricity within May's gloved fists.

"Oh my~" She giggled, amused briefly by the child-like fascination of the crackling energy beyond May's wrist. "Guess we _both_ have a thing for electricity – small world, eh?"

Shermie tossed the missed fist aside, only to be met with May's foot catching the right of her face with a leaping kick – this actually brought the vixen to a dazed state, allowing May Lee another strike, in this case an axe kick upside Shermie's head that left the 'Heavenly Queen' at an awkward state of grogginess where she was just barely on her feet still.

The Taekwondo kid was ready to bring her opponent down on her back at this point, but not before a brief moment of time-wasting poses.

"I am heaven's wrath! _H'yaah!_ " May Lee flung herself forward with a blazing kick – and she missed, as Shermie flung her own half-limp body back and somehow evaded it, forcing May to halt her kick's forward momentum and stop a way's away from her opponent.

Shermie flopped to her knees, bending herself almost into a ball as she recuperated through weak laughter. " _Oh wow_... those kicks are getting me woozy already..."

May Lee might've gotten a lucky break with those kicks she clobbered her adversary with, and she decided to try again with a strike from behind, a punch charging down on her opponent's skull – however, on the leap after the running start, she probably should've considered keeping a closer eye on Shermie's movements, as she suddenly felt the strong legs of the Orochi babe wrap around her waist, and take her on a brief ride straight into the ground.

The South Korean took the brunt of that landing on her shoulders, trading predicaments with Shermie as the limber beauty did a backwards handspring back onto her feet. She surprisingly managed to recover well from those kicks, all of a sudden – or maybe she was just feigning vulnerability...

"Hmhmhmhm~ for a justice-bringer, you sure are easy to catch..." Mind-games as usual from the Hakkesshu-aligned competitor, and she didn't seem to just be letting her opponent stay in their awkward position, as Shermie clung onto the waist of May and sent her across with a loose German suplex.

May again took the brunt of the slam on her shoulders as she was planted into the ground again. The experience of pain throughout her upper body clouded her head as she realized she was on the very wrong end of a beating against the 'forces of evil'. All she could hear beyond the light ringing within her ears from the growing trauma was the 'innocent' humming and giggling of her opponent as she started to approach again. " _La-la-la-laa, la-la-la-laaa, he-heh~!_ "

The adrenaline of justice started to kick in within May Lee as she kipped up to her feet, mostly ignoring what she had just experienced. "Cut the music, siren!"

Shermie glanced towards the younger adversary, continuing to chuckle. "Big words for a cute little kid," she retorted.

Immediately, May leapt for another flying kick, and this time it nearly hit, as Shermie narrowly dodged it – landing on the other side of the Orochi girl, May kept herself facing back as she jabbed an elbow forward and nailed Shermie in the side briefly, but the vixen kept the Taekwondo girl even closer, with a headlock wringing May by the neck.

Again, May Lee continued to fight back against her opponent, enacting several more swinging elbows to the side. Eventually, the headlock devolved into more of a wrist-lock, as May's hands took a handle onto one of Shermie's wrists and allowed her to briefly bring the babe around the scene with a wide swing – but reeling back in led to May getting smashed across the face with a bitch-slap from

A little bit agitated from the elbows to the side of her gut, Shermie flicked one of the tails of her red hair back over her shoulder in a cocky scoff. "You wouldn't dare try to dent these curves, kid." She immediately pounced May afterwards, culminating in a grounded position where she straddled atop the blue-haired kicker.

Shermie then followed up on her saying, "Otherwise, I might have to mess with _your_ looks." Her hands roamed above and around much more of her opponent's body than the Korean was willing to let her, and those deviant hands of Shermie ultimately threatened to tear away the aggressive-looking yellow frog decaled on May's shirt.

"Rrgh! N-no, stop that!" May Lee's hands fought back in the struggle against Shermie's, while her legs bent in until her knees beneath her baggy trousers brushed against the floor. Eventually, May _somehow_ managed to lift herself back to her feet even as Shermie continued to clutch onto her with both hands and legs finding positions around the Korean's body. Eventually, May overpowered the womanhandling she was on the wrong end of, shoving Shermie off and across the room.

May was a little ruffled up by all of the groping going on, but she was _not_ taking that sitting down. "I'm not in the mood to be fondled – the only piece of me you deserve is this _foot!_ " She swung around in a roundhouse, fitting for the quip that had just escaped her mouth, and aimed straight for the then-kneeling Shermie.

Surprising for even _her_ at the moment, Shermiecaught the roundhouse leg as it was mere centimeters from connecting – if it had succeeded in making its mark, the Orochi babe's jaw would've been far beyond dislocated. She slowly got back onto her own two feet as she held May by her left leg.

Throwing aside the outstretched leg, Shermie wound her opponent into a brief spin – and she too spun herself, in the opposite way, as she leapt forward, and sent a knee _straight_ into the center of the makeshift superhero's face, with crackling electric energy accompanying the impact as the kneecap potentially caved May's nose in as it sent her, and a patch of blood, flying several feet across the foyer and sliding several feet _further_ across the smooth and shiny floor.

With that, the action came to an abrupt halt as Shermie landed on her cute butt after that leaping knee, glancing at what felt like a mile away as the 'representation of justice' was on the other side, immediately knocked the fuck out as the light trail of blood drew a barely consistent line between the fighters, from the heels of Shermie's boots to the splatter that drew clashing colors on the blue and yellow of May Lee's shirt.

Surveying the end of the brief war, Shermie adjusted the loosen strings of her hair as she laughed and then sighed in relief. "Finally – is it really so hard to shut up once in a while?"

With one significant knee, the French beauty had come out of this with her good looks pretty much intact, and in the face of a tournament ahead, and a new fling likely watching the match, she wouldn't want it any other way.

 **WINNER: Shermie**

* * *

 **Pardon me if it took a little longer for this chapter to come out than you were expecting – after a very productive February, I've been really considering just slowing down a little for March, give myself a little bit of a break. Seven chapters posted of this throughout last month is A LOT compared to updates of other works – and I've been considering plans on a few more one-shots in the coming future, and maybe something fairly big as well...?**

 **Next Chapter:** **The Ice Doll, Kula, is finally in action next!  
**


	19. R1: Ai vs Kula Diamond

**OPENING ROUND – MATCH #12  
** **Agent Ai vs. Kula Diamond**

Just when it seemed like the controlled chaos of the tournament was already at its peak, something new surfaced somewhere in the various hallways of the mansion.

In this case, it was a vehicle that looked like it traveled back in time from some future dystopia, speeding by as if it _wasn't_ out of place, especially within a building like this. After some sharp maneuvering around several narrow hallways, it eventually made a stop in a wide, open room akin to the ballroom in the Love/Jenet fight a while back.

Before any sort of explanation was necessary ( _and in a tournament full of odd bullshit, was an explanation needed at all?_ ), the vehicle for one started to fade away into a wireframe and then into nothing but air – as it turned out, it was one of many surprises left in store from the young agent Ai's magical Neo-Geo Pocket console. Disregard the trail of burnt rubber etched across the building into the empty – she just _had_ to get in her first impression in this tournament's preliminaries.

For a moment, Ai was starting to assume she got to the combat zone first, and seemed about willing enough to wait on them – but then she glanced up and saw two figures sitting atop the light-holding rafters, of her younger opposition in Kula ( _her hair idling in its initial strawberry-blonde color_ ), and her protector Diana.

"Oh~! Hi there!" A little bewildered by her opponent's locale in this zone, Ai waved hello.

Kula smiled silently and waved back. Diana spoke down to Ai, on behalf of the often taciturn ice girl she was rarely seen without, "Nice entrance."

"It's the most I could do," the gamer-agent admitted, handling her pocket-console in her hands.

"Unfortunately, it might the most you _can_ do," said Diana, before gesturing to the purple-clad girl beside her. "This girl is nothing to mess with."

"I think I can hold my own pretty well," Ai retorted. "I earned my right to be an agent for a reason."

"Good luck with that." Diana's slightly smug tone more than implied that she considered luck the only thing going Ai's way. She glanced towards Kula, "Think it's time you got to work."

"Right on it." Kula's orange hair suddenly evolved into a fluorescent blue, as she entered what could be considered her 'battle mode' – and her powers immediately entered the showcase as she dropped down from the rafters, with a sheet of ice trailing down her way in the form of a slide.

Ai had to think quickly to keep up on defense as she realized the slide of ice was bringing the NESTS girl straight at her. Shaking around her Neo-Geo Pocket, Ai struggled to get something out of her arsenal as quick as possible – that defense came in the form of a wooden box that plopped into her hands and was immediately smashed in on itself when Kula dropped in feet-first and kicked it. Despite the little bit of blockage, Ai still took a good chunk of the force when the hit came and went, and she took a bit of a stumble as the virtually-summoned pieces of wood in her hands soon faded away.

Kula stood in front of the agent with arms outstretched at her sides, the aura of ice around her finding a settlement in her yellow-gloved hands. "Kula... is ready!"

 _ **FIGHT!**_

Kula skated forward with a confident edge in her eyes as she kept close quarters with a spinning kick that swiped her foot across Ai's face twice over before kicking lower against her gut. Ai had already keeled over a bit from the combo, down on one knee as she saw her opponent glide in graceful circles around her, but she didn't look too disadvantaged in the fight yet – the initial strike right before the match began probably didn't help her troubles heading into this.

Ai's subconscious managed to barely read the next move incoming, but she was able to avoid a low sweep with a short hop, before taking a half-circle spinning start to a kick she decided to counter with, getting in her first hit against the ice doll

Kula looked as if she was about to go limp from the kick to the face, but she stabilized her stance and struck back with her two palms together in a forming of an ice spike darting straight for the fed-gov agent. Ai slid past the vicinity of which the attack would've reached her, darting past Kula's left with a great reflex and a knack to rely on her NG Pocket for the next attack – she summoned upon a baseball as her projectile of choice, feeling hard as stone in her hand in the moment before she chucked it at the NESTS alumnus.

Kula turned around quickly to meet the sight of the ball, and caught it before it could catch her with a hard blow. Initially intrigued for a few seconds, she decided to pay no mind or question to the objects her opponent had been forming out of that pocket console, choosing to throw the ball back to its sender.

Ai returned the favor of the projectile not making any striking contact, catching it in her hand – that hand of which was now wearing the mitt that fit the theme of the baseball items being put to use in the middle of this interesting bout.

The time spent to handle the baseball, however, was a detriment to Ai's defense, as Kula sought upon the thin opening in her opponent's guard and struck her hands against the floor to summon a brief pillar of ice. The ice darted upwards and forwards in a jagged spike, but Ai swiftly avoided the potential impalement. As she evaded, she returned to her Neo-Geo Pocket full of tricks...

Kula summoned a slightly taller spike of ice that darted further forward than the last, but in this instance, she kicked it and a sizable chunk of it was flung off towards her adversary – but Ai quickly countered with a newly equipped robotic gauntlet over her right hand, swinging the fist into the chunk and smashing it into bits. She went further with the metal hand, grabbing onto the rest of the ice in an attempt to weaponize it for herself. However, as she struggled, Kula had already maneuvered over, hopping past and winding up behind the agent.

The ice broke off from the ground it stood on, and Ai swung it like a blunt weapon, to no avail. Kula unleashed another spin-kick across the face of Ai, lumbering the agent back with the weight of the metal hand over her own being a slight disadvantage to her situation. Kula held onto that hand to keep a hold onto her opponent, and all the while, the robot hand slowly succumbed to the freezing sensation around it, until it was encased in a basketball-sized sphere of ice. The increased weight of the ice alongside the glove started to drag Ai even closer towards the floor as Kula took up on the free hit, with her hands brought together into a combined fist, swinging into Ai's jaw.

Ai spiraled out a few feet, her hand hanging inches away from the floor as she struggled with the ice attached to her. This little ordeal thankfully wasn't for too long, as she managed to smash away most of the ice by punching the floor. Even with the risk of busting a knuckle against the hard flooring, she was just glad to have that hand free. However, she suddenly saw a case of ice almost instantly surround her – as she found herself encased in a polygon of ice that rendered her barely mobile within the center due to the temperature creeping straight into subzero levels.

The childlike wonderment within Kula allowed her to giggle in fascination towards her work well done, as she took a moment to fiddle around with the big sphere of ice – she always had that affinity for the powers she was gifted...

Before too long, though, the case of ice started to crack and fizzle as something on the interior activated. Just as Kula was handling it, in contemplation to roll the frost-formed ball around for fun, she felt the crystal orb break away in the formation of something with more of an electrical edge, and her hands were briefly zapped before the emerging barrier in the deeper shade of blue casted itself wider and stronger than the original layer of ice.

Still capable somewhat of movement within the ice, Ai managed to reach for her Pocket to activate a force field, and the field briefly smashed against Kula as it quickly grew, knocking her down along the way. It took a moment for the ice-bearer to shake off the clash she took against the field, and she looked on for a moment as Ai sat in the middle of the semi-transparent field.

"Yeah, hard to hit me _now_ , isn't it?" Ai bragged from under the safe cover.

Kula decided to test that theory, again gliding across the floor on her ice-slicked boots as she jumped and clashed against the force field again with a shoulder-charge. Again, she was met with some electrical feedback and some recoil damage after running into it, but she powered through it and started kicking at the barrier. The agent's force field showed almost no sign of gradual damage from the strikes, and Ai had found herself time to plan her next move.

As she fiddled with her Neo-Geo gadget to figure out what to choose next from her cohesive library of game-based weaponry, Ai grew to realize that 'time to plan' was fading a little bit quicker than she wanted, as she saw Kula pushing against the barrier again, this time paying no mind to the electrical aura zapping her plenty. The realization kicked in further when she saw that it seemed that the growing shields of ice fading in against the force field were absorbing the charge on behalf of Kula's hands, and it was starting to get a little bit frightening.

The ice was starting to phase through – and the crystals started to spike out into the other side, bringing Ai into a brief state of panic as she fidgeted harder with her pocket console.

Suddenly, the force field vanished, Ai had started to hover up into the air on _something_ , and Kula had lost the balance she formed against the field, nearly taking a prat fall alongside the dropped crystals of ice that fell from her hands. For a moment, the doll-like girl was confused with the sudden vanishing of her opponent, and while laying down on the floor, she looked around from left to right. She didn't yet bother looking straight up until her guardian spoke up.

"Kula! Watch the skies!" Diana alerted, prompting Kula's eyes upwards towards what mattered most in the exact moment.

With a yelp and a brief roll-away, Kula narrowly avoided something that was intended to drop right on her head – when she glanced towards where she previously laid, she saw an odd L-shaped object, formed from four smaller blue blocks, that was about half as tall as she was.

"Hey, kid! You like puzzles, don't ya?" Ai's voice rung out from right above, and Kula recognized her presence nearly at the very top of the room, on an odd little hot-air balloon contraption. Ai's legs kicked about so casually over the edge of her seat on the basket of the aircraft, with the rest of the space made up of similar-looking tetrominoes that the agent looked about ready to drop in a weird puzzle air-raid.

The next object in the series of pieces was a green skew polymino, which as soon as it left Ai's hands, it hovered down at a very slow pace, and from the looks of it, she was controlling the odd rotation of it with her Neo-Geo Pocket – as if she was playing a video-game within actual reality.

It was nothing like Kula had ever seen before, and her first thought towards what to do with her adversary's plan of action was to just plain have fun with it. She swiftly maneuvered around the real-life game of Tetris she was in the middle of, hopping over onto the top of the blue L-block and then making a risky leap further into the air to cling onto the green polyomino as it slowly hovered down. A purple T-shaped block came next, and traveled further up to grab onto it. By this point, Ai rotated the oddly-shaped object erratically to try and shake the NESTS alumnus off, but Kula clinged on, so decided to drop the purple block fast to rip the makeshift platform out from under the opponent.

The orange 2x2 square came next, aiming down where Ai suspected her foe to be laying, but with the view she had that didn't involve having to stretch dangerously over the edge of the balloon-held contraption, and the screen that indicated only the placement of the blocks and nothing further, she didn't have the best tell of the ice girl's locale.

Naturally, it was unsurprising how much she was caught off-guard when Ai saw the orange block start going _up_ instead, and even further when she saw a rising pillar of snow rise up right in front of her, with Kula casually laying down atop it, the neon-orange tetromino cuddled in her arms.

"Hi," Kula waved again, nearly face-to-face with the blue-clad girl.

Ai struggled with words. "Uhhh... one moment..." The balloon slowly hovered lower, bringing Ai away from her opponent's sight.

"Hmm?" Kula hummed in confusion to what her opponent was planning next, but she soon gathered what was going on when she felt the pillar shake amidst a thumping a couple feet below. She looked over the edge of the tall snow fort and saw Ai whacking at the pillar with a baseball bat like an axe chopping down a tree. The stack of snow started to lean dangerously in one way, and Kula found herself about to potentially plummet back down to her, bringing her to a gradual panic. "Uhh...? Uhh...! No-no, nononono~!" She indeed took that fall, but it wasn't for very long, as she luckily landed right on Ai's shoulders.

Ai yelped in frustration, "Whoa~! Hey, get off!"

Kula's next actions came from spontaneous panic, as she decided to breath some chilling air down on Ai's face, and the mist of blue built together into a growing patch of ice that started covering the agent's face.

"Ahh, ahh...! Please, not the—I can't _see!_ " Ai blindly thrusted her arms above herself to cling onto the ice girl.

The balloon started to shake out to the right, bumping against the slumping fort of snow. Suddenly, those balloons took an impact of something dropping onto them – the orange tetromino that was atop the pillar, which provided sharp enough edges to pop those balloons.

Gravity set its course as the only direction the girls and the basket they struggled upon was straight _down_ – after the impact of everything hitting the floor echoed roughly throughout the room, there was a mess of wood and beneath two groany bodies

Ai rose her face slightly from the ground first, her eyes still sticky and mostly-closed from the ice that already began to thaw upon her face. In addition, her nose was a little bit busted up and bloody since that was the first thing on her that touched the floor, and her hat had slipped off her head in the middle of the fall, leaving a slight mess of a hairdo out in the open.

She voiced her injury with a clear moan, "That was _your_ fault..."

Kula was a little better off from the fall, recovering decently after having taken less of a spill on her stomach and face. Shaking away the messy strands of her icy mane, she glanced back. "It was kinda fun, though." A little bit after she said that, her eyes glanced a little higher up past where Ai was laying, and for good reason.

The blue-clad agent followed suit and looked up towards the snowy slope behind her – which was starting to lean much further, and much like the tree it was treated like with that baseball bat she used against it earlier, it was slowly tumbling down.

On the other hand, Kula had beaten Ai to the next glare towards something that was thankfully barely scatched in the fall – the technologically-gifted Neo-Geo Pocket. Naturally, her next action was to grab it. "Yoink!"

Ai saw this happen a second too late. "Hey, that's—!" When she glanced forward again, she saw Kula's other hand atop her wrist – which had then been encased in a patch of ice that held the video-gamer agent down.

"It's been fun – I'll see you again, _maybe_?" Kula spoke quickly as she started to make her evasion from the snowy danger incoming.

Ai struggled desperately as she tried to get her hand out from beneath the ice casing wrapped over her wrist, but it was basically stronger than super-glue. She gave up not long after, knowing that her better plans of action against the unfortunate bondage involved her NG-Pocket. _Which she didn't have._

She ultimately laid flat on her back as she saw the fluffy white slowly devolve into an avalanche. "I didn't sign up for _this_..."

The snow falling on top of her quickly silenced her as it came down in a burying tumble of whiteness that almost completely enveloped her. By this point, the fight had slowed down after the whole balloon crash bit, and with something like that happening to someone who was left without the gear or powers to easily escape, it was nothing less than a match-ender.

 **WINNER: Kula Diamond**

* * *

Although she had gotten the win, Kula almost immediately started to feel a bit of guilt towards – looking rather worrisome as she looked at the huge pile of snow before her, and the entrapped arm of the girl that laid underneath. It was mostly the muffled moan of defeat she heard that rung that guilt in her young brain.

Seconds later, Diana walked up to the side of her precious partner, almost as cautious about the buried adversary. "So... you think she'll be alright in there?"

Kula sat without a word for a little bit, peering down at the Neo-Geo Pocket still in her hands... but she eventually started to approach the pile. With a light handling, she held onto the chunk of ice around the bound wrist, and it slowly crumbled, allowing the arm of the gamer-girl its freedom – one wouldn't be sure of it as it seemed like the girl may have started to lose consciousness by the lack of movement in that arm despite its freedom.

At the least, the fed-gov agent was no longer _totally_ doomed underneath the horrific snow-pile, and a helping hand could be somewhere close by. Those thoughts alone started to make the frown on Kula's face invert into something more positive.

"I think she'll be fine."

* * *

 **Honestly, this was kind of an odd match to figure out, since I'm not necessarily a big fan of either girl but I'm very aware of the powers they got. I was also almost unsure of how I was going to end it, outside of Kula winning since I always planned on her getting past the first round.**

 **Next Chapter:** **Blue Mary gets her hands dirty when she puts her grappling skills to good use!  
**


	20. R1: Tsugumi Sendo vs Blue Mary

**OPENING ROUND – MATCH #13  
** **Tsugumi Sendo vs. Blue Mary Ryan**

"I think I still got wall stuff in my ear."

"Did the kick-chick really do you _that_ bad?"

"Why do you think I went straight back to the drinks?"

"Implying you don't go to the drinks when you _win._ "

"...Good point." Vanessa had fairly recently checked herself out of hospice, and was just looking to hang around her partner despite no longer being the tournament after her unfortunate defeat. Now it was just her, her cohort, and a splatter of alcohol in a martini cup. "So, what's all _this_ about?"

As for the scenery around the punch-bound agent – strings of ropes stretched about in a square around this 'combat zone' chosen for the upcoming fight, which seemed like just a plain unused room filled with random objects. The 'ring-posts' were composed of wooden chests that clamped the ropes in place with its drawers, and the matting spread out on the floor within the 'ring' were very clearly taken from the gym scenery last seen in the Angel/Alice fight.

Mary was almost finished encasing the rough ropes with smooth, black-tinted duct-tape, putting in the extra work to the dedicated 'scenery' she formed. "I heard this Tsugumi girl I'm facing knows her stuff about grappling – I figured I wanted to give her a show around the ropes."

"Looks like you wanna take that literally," said Vanessa, leaning against one of the wooden cabinets, with the glass lingering between her left ring and middle fingers. "I'll admit though, you're certainly going 110% for something only a handful are gonna be able to see."

"When you hop into a private tourney like this, you're bound to be a little bit experimental with _how_ you want to do things."

Vanessa replied, "When the term 'experimental' comes to mind, things tend to crawl towards... well, y'know..."

Mary retorted, "Well, what happens in France, stays in France. _Hopefully._ "

Upon great timing, the door opened again and the other half of the upcoming bout arrived. "O-kaaay..." Tsugumi looked ready for the fight to come, of course, but what she felt even more at the moment was _intrigued_ , at the setup of the combat zone before her.

"Oh – just in time!" Having finished taping up the ropes, Mary then leapt over them into the inside of the ring, and took a fighting stance at one of the corners. "C'mon kid, time to show me what you got."

Tsugumi was still busy collecting the odd details of the makeshift ring, leaving her quiet for a brief moment longer. She didn't pay much mind to the opponent within it, especially since she would usually be the one to challenge first.

Mary spoke up again, "Unless you're a little overwhelmed – that's fine, I can wait for ya."

Tsugumi's eyes met the blonde who was raring to fight, and by this point, the Osaka grappler finally responded. "I can make this work." She stepped through the tightly bound ropes. "So are we working by regular rules or..."

"Pins, submissions, the works," said Mary.

Tsugumi shrugged, rolling along with the simplest of rulesets. "Fair enough." She took a stance and settled into it. "Bring it."

 _ **FIGHT!**_

The match opened on a collar-and-elbow grapple, hands to shoulders as the two ladies clung onto each other in the starting portion of what could be considered one of the more interesting encounters. Eventually, one of Tsugumi's arms wound away from contact with anything else, as her other was in Mary's clutches, the blonde agent forming together a wristlock that tweaked the younger fighter's wrist in a kind of uncomfortable angle.

The match was starting at a crawl at first, but the pace had yet to truly settle in – Tsugumi ran ahead into danger, tackling against Mary with a free shoulder to charge against her midsection, but the adversary wasn't going to let the takedown meet its natural completion. Clinging onto her opponent's left arm, Mary spun around and clocked her in the back with a hard kick. Tsugumi's arm was afterwards tucked under Mary's own left arm, as the blonde worked the shoulder of her friendly rival.

Tsugumi immediately went low with her next strike, sweeping a leg backwards. Before her free arm could reach, Mary caught the sweep on the front of her ankles, but she kept herself from fully hitting the ground with a hand down against the floor – this meant having to let Tsugumi slip out while she kept her balance in check, and the young grappler clutched in half of a waistlock as she hooked a leg and went for a belly-to-back suplex. Mary backflipped out of the suplex and shoved away, sending her into a rough tumble against one of the wooden corners, and the blonde continued on the rebound with a knee to the midsection.

Tsugumi keeled over for long enough to be then grabbed and flung across the pseudo-ring by Mary; despite the good will the padding seemed to offer in replacement to the hard wood, it still hurt plenty for Sendo to fall near-directly onto her right arm in the crash-landing.

Mary sped over to the Osaka girl's prone body and contorted her opponent's shoulders towards the floor, but Tsugumi wasn't having any of the pin attempt, rolling over and out of the ring through the top and middle ropes. Mary immediately went for the catch on her opponent to bring her back in, but she was introduced to a foot catching her across the face as Tsugumi fought against gravity to jump while holding the top rope to thrust a hopping high kick over onto the other side. She then did a front-roll back through the ropes, jumping out of the dismount with a jumping lariat that slapped her forearm across the space on Mary's body between her neck and bosom.

Both bodies went for a drop onto the gym matting, but Tsugumi's went first to roll onto Mary's for a quick pin attempt. Before a single slap on the mat could be counted, Mary reversed the predicament and on top of that, grabbed one of Sendo's legs to crank over as she forced her opponent's shoulders against the ground once again.

"One!~" Mary counted, slapping the floor accordingly – but that was as far as it went as Tsugumi wriggled her shoulders off the floor, and in turn wound up plopping her body into an awkward position on top of Mary.

"Mmhn~!?" A brief grunt muffled out of Mary once she felt Tsugumi's lower body envelop most of her face in the weird positioning going on – then she felt the adversary's legs shift about around her head, and soon Mary felt her neck getting squeezed a fair bit as Tsugumi put her well-fit legs to work.

Mary's mind was on her means to escape the weardown first, but with how her face was placed in the position, there were thoughts elsewhere as well – with the short spandex jumpsuit Tsugumi had on alongside her cropped jacket, there wasn't too much to the imagination when it came to the optimistic girl's _lower_ regions.

Regardless of racy thoughts rambling through her head, Mary leapt up to her feet, but her neck continued to feel the strength of the Osaka wrestler's legs as they held on tight – even more so when Tsugumi whipped the Sambo-skilled agent into a tumble that left Mary upside down with her legs draped over the ropes. Those ropes, by the way, weren't the most stable alongside the objects in the corner meant to hold them in place.

Vanessa certainly felt the loose movement of the cabinets more than anything else, as the one at the corner that she was leaning against shifted against her, and the glass of alcohol on top of it nearly fell off. "Fuck's sake – this ring has enough trouble as it is by itself...!"

"Not like I'm doing it on purpose..." Mary groggily responded, moments before she felt Tsugumi get that one free dropkick against her gut. She fell into a sloggy tumble, and Tsugumi continued to capitalize on the opponent's situation with a stomp down upon the jaw, before pulling down on one leg and going for a quick press.

"One!" Tsugumi couldn't reach a two-count before Mary tumbled backwards onto her and maneuvered about – Tsugumi's left leg was caught in the midst of the motions, as Mary forced her into a back-roll and then grappled her from behind once they were both to their feet.

Mary rotated the position to face her and her opponent towards the ropes in the direction of the door, and she tossed Tsugumi across. The ropes weren't the most professionally prepared, but they did enough to grant some bounce against as the Asian grappler was hurtled against them. Tsugumi stumbled forward with a bit stinging pain off her back – right into a rolling sobat kick, which Mary followed up on with a sweeping low that floored the adversary. Mary promptly pounced onto Tsugumi aftewards, enacting a position for a little bit of ground-and-pound – Tsugumi, however, managed to force herself up into a seated position in the middle of it, and eventually, the two grapplers had their legs intertwined in an entanglement of aggression as they both looked to strike and stretch out their opposition.

Mary eventually caught a swinging fist inches from contact, and draped her other arm around the neck of Tsugumi in a seated guillotine choke, intending to strain at least a good chunk of life force out of her opponent in the hopes of getting a tap-out.

Instead of that, Mary found herself being lifted up from the ground as Tsugumi wrapped her arms around the detective's body and carried her on the way back up to her feet. The action was carried into one of the corners, as Tsugumi straddled Mary onto the top for something that would not come to completion as Mary kicked the opponent away and kept a position on the oddly-constructed ring corner. She made a short leap off the tottering cabinet, soaring just a slight over Tsugumi's head and shoulders before latching sideways onto her back, with one hand reaching around the younger fighter's left arm.

With a swift crucifix driver, Mary aggressively slammed Tsugumi down on her neck and shoulders, but she didn't hold on for a pinfall of some kind as rolled backwards and onto her knees – the private-eye grappler followed instead with more focus on Tsugumi's left arm, jumping and clinging herself around the limb.

Planting down in the middle of the 'ring', Mary completed her methods of lockdown as she intertwined her legs against Tsugumi's shoulder and held on tight for a cross-armbar. Almost immediately, Tsugumi sensed the danger of the submission as she felt her elbow threaten to bend in the worst possible direction – there was little she could do at the moment outside of having to roll out of it, but that was at the threat of things potentially getting worse for her. Mary even elevated the lock over time, balancing herself atop one of her shoulders against the mat ( _as using both shoulders could potentially count as a pin in this bout_ ), leaving Tsugumi hanging slightly above the ground by her arm as her shoulder joined in the growing agony of the hold.

Even then, Tsugumi still had a light grasp at possibly fighting through the pain, but her momentum was crumbling around her as it ensued further, and her wrist joined the other major joints of her arm in the horrific tweaks and bends, at the hands of Blue Mary.

Eventually, the Osaka grappler conceded, the palm of her other hand slamming against the floor in difficult surrender. Even after being released from the hold, Tsugumi's arm was overwhelmed in a lingering pain from her shoulder to her fingertips, and this pain helped her learn that she was the inferior one of the bunch in this specific fight.

 **WINNER: Blue Mary**

After coping with the sweat dripping sparsely across her fit body, Mary approached Tsugumi, with a hand offering some help to her feet.

"No hard feelings, kid," Mary assured. Despite having to come close to breaking some bones to get that submission victory, she was willing to give respect. "Just the spirit of competition."

Tsugumi accepted the helping hand, temporarily getting over the ache in her right arm to take that hand into Mary's. "I'm still finding my way around – _ow~_..."

Mary heard the brief yelp out of the brunette in front of her, and light concern formed in her eyes. "You sure you're gonna be fine?"

"Yeah. Probably." Tsugumi again winced when Mary lifted it just slightly.

"Even then, you should _probably_ see them about this," Mary responded, taking a handful of Tsugumi's sturdy limb for a little while, to the point where it almost started to feel super awkward on Tsugumi's end, if the very light blush lining above her cheeks and nose was able to say anything of the slightest. At this point, we might need someone to switch the subject before it starts to get a little _heated_...

"Alright girls, save the touchy-feely for later." Breaking the undertones going on within it, Vanessa stepped through the ropes, sneaking up behind the two fellow fighters with an arm draping comfortably around each of the grapplers' shoulders. "I think now's about time I get _you_ some drinks this time around!"

Mary was at a slight objection to the idea... "Pretty sure this kid's not old enough for that kind of stuff..."

Tsugumi responded, "Yeah, you'd probably be right..." If we were to give technicality a chance, 18-year-old Sendo would be of age within France, but being in such a foreign country left her a bit clueless to that fact.

Ah well – whatever comes their way in the post-match mingling is their business. 'What happens in France, stays in France', as they say...

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** **After more than a dozen matches so far in the tourney, the spotlight finally lands on a certain sex-symbol in her upcoming bout, coming next!**


	21. R1: Mai Shiranui vs Nakoruru

**OPENING ROUND – MATCH #14  
** **Mai Shiranui vs. Nakoruru**

The sun was shining much brighter here than most of elsewhere in the premises – this was the first fight of the tournament to take place in scenery that was at least mostly outdoors, on a balcony-like setting that was still wide enough to be considered a room of its own.

The theme of the upcoming fight was as clear as the skies on this now-afternoon – a far-past generation of Japanese warrior culture going up against the modernity of ninja culture nowadays.

Nakoruru was giving her attention towards the flowers lining the corners of the balcony barricade – unsurprising behavior for someone appointed as the guardian of Mother Nature. Mamahaha was perched on her right shoulder, looking elsewhere while Nako admired the expressive colors of the bloom around her, stopping soon after to squawk out in an alerting manner. The time-displaced young guardian looked towards where her hawk companion had called, and the reason was not too far to reach.

Positioned somewhat higher above and farther away from where Nako was standing was the other half of this clash of Japan's finest; looking far beyond fine in her iconic ( _in several ways_ ) red-clad gear, Mai was reclining atop the rooflet leading out into the mostly-outdoors setting, a fan in hand hiding just a slight bit of her face. From how comfortably she was settled, it seemed she had been there for a little while, and her opponent hadn't noticed until now. Of course, who would you be not to expect something like that from a ninja like her?

Heeding the alerting caw of her companion, it took a little moment before Nakoruru finally recognized the sparsely-clad ninja atop the roof. "Ohh – I was wondering what's gotten Mamahaha so suddenly bothered; so _you're_ my opponent, I assume?"

"Exactly right~!" As soon as she was given the attention of her opponent, Mai swooped down into the scene with beauty and grace fully intact. Swiveling about with her cloth happily flowing through the breeze, she settled on her pose with the fan open in her hand, and a whole lot of bounce in her chest. "Prepare to face off with the one and only – Mai Shiranui has arrived!"

While the sexy charisma was very clear within the poster girl of the Shiranui clan, it was only met with silence ( _including the relatively stunned state of Nakoruru before her_ ) only graced against by the wind, as she stared confidently towards her opponent.

Eventually, that confidence on the smile upon Mai's face petered out into an expression fitting slight discomfiture to the awkward silence. "...Yeah, it's not as awesome without a crowd, I know," she admitted, lightly itching the half-folded fan against her shoulder. "But still, I'm quite a delight in _your_ eyes, right?"

Nakoruru was a little hesitant in her response, as her innocent eyes were unprepared for what they were going to face in this tournament. "I... honestly don't know _what_ to say about someone so generously proportioned, in such... _interesting_ attire."

Mai held the fan closer to her face, unsure of which direction to take the younger girl's comments. "Were there not girls like me in... whenever your time was?"

"It just wasn't a common sight."

"Guess that means you're not all _that_ prepared with the likes of me, then?"

Nako admitted with a sniff of slight pessimism, "It's far from my first encounter – though I would've preferred if things were different."

"Don't feel so bad about it," said Mai. "C'mon, come dance in the flame with me." She spun around dazzlingly before settling into her fighting stance.

Attempting to not let her opponent's looks get the better of her, Nakoruru reached behind herself for the handle of her sheathed kodachi. "If you insist..." Mamahaha hovered by her side as she slouched into position for the incoming battle...

 _ **FIGHT!**_

The two fighters circled around, both waiting for the other to make their first move.

Mai spoke up in the midst of the encircling encounter, "I hope you aren't too uncomfortable having to hit a pretty face..." The Shiranui maiden's curves and bounce were shamelessly out and about in her stance, even more with the continued movement she had to keep up with.

The jiggly presence before her made Nakoruru almost incapable of looking directly at her opponent. Regardless, she was willing to approach closer for the first strike, her left foot skittery before she made a first attempt at kicking forward. Her first lick of offense was quickly dispatched, though, as Mai blocked it with a strong leg forward, and spun in a half-circle to swing the other leg further in a kick that grazed by Nako's gut; 'Nature's Guardian' retreated slightly as her grip on her sheathed blade tightened, continuing the methodical crawl that the match was starting with.

Mai held an open fan close to her face, her eyes showing the eager patience towards her opponent's next move. She kept position with barely any budge as she kept her eyes locked onto the slightly reluctant rival – when Nakoruru finally chose to try and strike again, with an elbow thrusting ahead, Mai spun aside...

" _Ryuu Enbu~!_ "

Twirling the ribbons tailing down her back-end across the face of her opponent, Mai summoned an aura of fire in front of her, forcing Nako onto defense. As the guardian bore witness to the lingering line of flame in front of her, she saw as cartwheeled through it...!

" _Hissatsu, Shinobi Bachi!_ " Mai drove a pointed elbow forward in her soaring dash, and smashed into the blocking arms of Nakoruru, who braced against the attack with all her will-power and managed to come out of it with little damage done.

Afterwards seeing the minimal window of opportunity as Mai had her back turned slightly towards her, Nakoruru clung onto the back of the sparsely-clothed ninja and landed her first proper strike on her with a dropkick driving her two feet into the spine. Mai stumbled into one of the pillars leading out from the entryway going out from inside the mansion, and was left with lost focus. Before long, she saw Mamahaha flying her way, and sprung away off the pillar in a brief panic to evade the hawk's ordered offense.

Immediately following the first spiral flip away from the hawk's aggressive dash at her, Mai had to flip again as she sensed Nakoruru coming at her, targetting low, and made sure her ankles didn't get clipped by Nako's diving slice at her. After the missed attack, Nakoruru front-rolled back into position, only to be soon met with a spinning kick across the face from the Shiranui beauty. Springing up higher while her opponent staggered away, Mai jumped onto the edge of the rooflet just above where Nako was standing, and dropped down with knees aiming for another full-contact strike on her opponent. Avoided it, however, and Mai met nothing but concrete on the missed impact.

"Tch~!" Mai winced briefly. High risk, but no reward...

Nakoruru jumped back into the fray with a spinning dropkick, soles hitting Mai mostly in the gut – although the sexy kunoichi braced some of the impact with her arms, she was still pushed a sizable way back. Didn't help that she was still on her knees the whole way through, risking some bad scrapes on her knees against the hard, rough pavement beneath. Mai wasn't budged too badly yet, though – the fans flourished within her hands, and she was inbound for her strike as she did a hands-free cartwheel leap, lunging forward with the fans held tightly, and slashed down with both hands.

However, she only managed to clash with Nakoruru's blade alone – the fans crumpled somewhat against the short sword of Nako, and out of the corner of her eye past the young warrior out of time, Mai saw Mamahaha fluttering with a stare piercing out at her.

Moving swiftly but with an erratic edge, Mai wrapped an arm around Nakoruru's head and brought her down towards the ground with her, rolling backwards and booting Nako across with a throw that sent the girl closer to the stone barricade of the balcony. Afterwards, Mai heard the hawk's cry sound out loud, almost loud enough to be heard across the entirety of the tournament's premises. Mai kipped up from her grounded position, just in time to avoid the low sweeping dash of Mamahaha.

The hawk thankfully managed to land safely in the arms of Nakoruru, who was able to keep comfort with her companion despite having freshly taken a throw dropping her to the ground.

"Don't worry, I got you...!" she assured.

This moment of comfort to left Nakoruru to not see what came next before it was enacted right before her eyes; looking off into the distance before her, she was met with the sight of several fans, most definitely more than what she would expect someone to handle with just their two hands alone, soaring out in several curving paths that all led to just _one_ target. The small realm of reaction during this moment left Mamahaha reacting quicker than who it was aligned alongside, hovering up beyond the shoulders of Nakoruru as she took a hold onto one of the hawk's claws and managed to ride away from the danger.

The fans – about eight in the whole bunch – met a single circle of landing in the middle of the barricade, _slicing_ and _smashing_ through the stone concrete. As a reminder, these fans were made primarily with simple _paper_ , but they all individually carried the strength of a sledgehammer slamming down. Stone and dust exploded out in a small radius of messiness below where Nako was seconds before, and she looked more than relieved to have avoided the calamity.

Soon dismounting from her flight alongside her hawk, Nakoruru spun down at Mai in a rolling dive, catching her with two feet to the temple. Mai's mind swirled briefly like clothes in a washing machine, but the adrenaline of battle allowed her to recover just in time to block another attempted kick from Nako, and retaliate with a swift spin that culminated in her ribbon-tail whipping out at the Sakoku-era warrior. The ribbons caught contact with the left of Nakoruru's face, smacking across her like a disrespectful slap to the face, and it looked like it nearly rendered a cut on her face.

As Nako reeled from the ribbon assault, Mai urged another aura of flame onto the surface of the concrete floor, and she was about to fling it straight at the nature-lover – but Nakoruru quickly shielded herself from the flames with a cloak of fabric. That cloak seemed to _somehow_ be able to shield away the fire without it spreading onto the color-matched fabric – in fact, it looked like it swiped some of the flames back at its sender, as the orange eruption snapped against the exposed skin of Mai's hefty bosom, feeling like a stinging whipping sensation of its own.

" _Eyaaa~!_ " Mai yelped as the flames of fury were deflected straight against her chest – while she carried enough of it to physically block a bit of it, it was a little bit of an emotional weak point, as she didn't want her good looks to be messed with in such a way.

Dashing backwards and wrapping an arm around the skin of her chest, Mai was a little aggrivated to say the least. "Watch the goods, kid!"

Just as she said that, the Shiranui ninja was suddenly caught and wrapped into the holdings of the cloth, which stretched and retained its sturdiness as Nakoruru held onto it.

With her opponent temporarily entrapped, Nakoruru had a little bit of time to give her honest thoughts. "I'm not quite surprised someone like you would be so protective of your looks – but I would've figured kunoichi would rather not be noticed in the heat of battle."

Struggling to get some precise movement beneath the cloth, Mai managed to link together some sacred ninja hand-signs beneath what her opponent could see; with an eruption of flame, she phased out of the strong sheet's clutches, basically translocating out of her predicament, and when she physically returned to the fray out of her technique, she tackled Nakoruru down to the ground.

Pinning the priestess girl against the ground, Mai bought herself time to retort to what Nako had said the moment before. "You're clearly still thinking back to your time, kid – things have changed a lot nowadays."

"I suppose I'd have to admit it as true..." Even deep in the midst of the fight, the absurd jiggle of the older fighter's well-endowed chest.

Out of the line of sight of either lady, Mamahaha swayed in above Mai's position, and latched on with strong claws against the ropes and fabric wrapped around the back of her outfit; Mai didn't realize it until seconds later, but she felt herself being slowly lifted off the ground. She still held onto Nakoruru for a little bit longer as she started to be carried out and into the air, but the guardian of nature struggled out of the clutch,

Admittedly, the predicament Mai found herself in was weird as hell, for sure, but also somewhat terrifying in the case of how far up that hawk was taking her; thankfully, it wasn't too far beyond around 30 feet high up, but she was still rendered into an annoyed panic as she

"Ergh! Get off me, you little... feather... agh, fuck!" Mai was a bit limited with what she had to work with in terms of insults. Her mind was wandering closer towards possible methods to escape the high-height situation she was lifted into, and even deeper in her head, a third relative thought of 'How the hell does Elisabeth allow _this?_ ' was not too far behind; surely animal companions would be considered in a similar realm as a fighter's partner or an interfering party of people...

Someone was certainly bound to wind up in some significant pain coming from this situation, but it may not be for the one who would take the inevitable free-fall. Within a minute, Mai ultimately decided to break free on her terms and her terms alone – she grabbed against the white ropes wrapped across her back, clutched within Mamahaha's claws, and with a strong pull against the entrapping force of the talons, it culminated in those ropes snapping apart and falling away from the hawk's clutches. Surprisingly, her costume was still holding well despite the loose, broken binds alongside it...

Mai started to make her drop straight down from her dangerous height beyond the battlefield, but by this point, she was fully prepared. With another sacred hand-sign formed together with her precise fingers, she started to infuse her dropping aura with the all-too-familiar flames. As her fall accelerated, she was all but literally a meteor falling down to orbit, complete with the burning aura that surprisingly didn't do any damage onto herself.

Down at the ground, Nakoruru held her kodachi tightly in her hands, and raised it at its side above her head to block the airdrop of pure flaming femme fatale coming straight for her. Mamahaha was maybe a bit too late to catch the beauty that escaped from her grasp, so it was up to Nako to make good on her defense.

The collusion most certainly lived up to the short but intense build-up, as Mai clashed with a burning elbow against the short blade of the kodachi – and rather quickly, the blade _snapped_ under the pressure, and the next thing that Shiranui smashed against was Nakoruru's face, front and center against her stubby little nose. Well, for sure, that nose probably wasn't the same shape anymore once the hard clonk of her opponent's elbow crashed against it.

Mai landed quite gracefully despite the whooshing soar downwards, with the return of that confident smile on her face as she dismounted into a fine half-kneel pose. However, as she took her pose, it was a moment before she glanced ahead at where her opponent would be standing at this point.

From that brief glance, she saw as Nakoruru gradually lost her consciousness from the devastating strike, all the while losing her footing as she stumbled towards the edge of the balcony, inconveniently over the previously-broken section – right as she faded away from her (albeit generally reluctant) fighting spirit, one of Nako's feet approached over the air beyond the combat zone, followed inevitably by the rest of her.

"Oh shit!" Mai panicked, quite rightfully, as she leapt out and caught one of Nakoruru's hands right as she started to fall off the platform beneath them. Swiftly reeling the young girl back onto the balcony, back to safety – well, as safe as the now-unconscious, potentially-nose-broken Nakoruru was, at least.

Although the fight was over by this point, at least it didn't end with such a bad stumble as there nearly was just now...

 **WINNER: Mai Shiranui**

The kunoichi wouldn't be able to celebrate in any way just yet, however...

"Nngh!"

Quite abruptly, Mai felt a pain down her left arm that was impossible to ignore now, something that the adrenaline of the abrupt rescue had ignored for a minute beforehand. She looked down, and after seeing the staggered downpour of blood dripping just next to where she sat, she saw as a narrow but long cut enveloped across her elbow and upper-arm, slightly singed up from the flames that lingered for seconds longer after its formation.

Mai's first guess was that she must've hit the blade dead-on with that big finishing attack – Nakoruru's weaponry was no joke, as it became clear with how much it hurt like hell at the moment. Whatever – surely, someone on Elisabeth's payroll would patch her up sooner or later.

Though half-grimacing from the searing pain down her elbow, Mai had to laugh it off. "Yeesh," she sighed down towards the unconscious nature-guardian laying comfortably alongside her. "Didn't expect all this from you, kid." The silence returned to being awkward, since Mai was speaking to someone who was too busy being knocked-the-hell-out to respond properly. "Yeah... I think you'll thank me later..."

The victory, though bittersweet with the pure-of-heart opponent that she had to dispatch in this first round, was worth the hard competition just with that fight alone...

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** **Aoi, the Kusanagi prospect, enters the fray in the second-to-last match of what has been a wild first round!**


	22. R1: Aoi Kusanagi vs Hotaru Futaba

**OPENING ROUND – MATCH #15  
** **Aoi Kusanagi vs. Hotaru Futaba**

The two in this late first-round shared a common thread of being relatively new to the competitions around at this time. Aoi was still in her tight but flexible biker jumpsuit, while Hotaru looked serene and comfortable in her blue and white garb.

On one hand, Hotaru was familiar to the King of Fighters tournaments with an odd appearance here and there, including the Maximum Mayhem side-tourney. Aoi, on the other hand, had never stepped foot into an actual KoF tournament, and while this didn't count as anything close to a public tournament, it was her first major foray into combat.

The two met in yet another of the hallways of the Blanctorche manor, approaching one another with no flair needed in their arrivals. Ensuring the respect starting to form between the two, they shook hands.

Aoi was quick to bring out a brief ultimatum to her spiritually-calm opponent. "Don't hold back, okay?"

Hotaru smiled back, feeling the warmth of Aoi's impatient fighting spirit. "There's a lot of optimism in you – I wouldn't expect anything less of a Kusanagi."

The two settled a distance as they entered their respective fighting stances.

 _ **FIGHT!**_

As the fight officially began, Hotaru sauntered forward a slight with a graceful posture, shifting her stance as she allowed Aoi the chance to come closer. Aoi adjusted her gloves as she stepped forward with slight caution, letting the calm and innocent nature of her opponent slide past while she dealt with the fighter beyond it. Both were proceeding with no hurry to start coming to blows...

Eventually, Aoi was the first to try a strike, thrusting forward with a sliding elbow – but Hotaru swiveled past it, catching one of Aoi's arms as she came up behind her and struck her in the back with a accurately-targeted palm. As Aoi stumbled out of close proximity, Hotaru settled with arms outstretched above her knees and a low-crouching stance as she again approached slowly.

Unbudged by the strike, Aoi turned around sprinted briefly before jumping in with a short-hop kick that Hotaru parried with a swiping hand against the Kusanagi's ankle. Aoi staggered a tiny bit when she landed from the hop, quickly shaking away the brief stinger on her ankle and continuing to closely pursue the Juu-kei fighter. A couple more attempted punches came out of Aoi's arsenal, loosely inspired by her cousin's style of combat, but turned those fists aside time and time again.

The match slowed down briefly again as the two fighters met eyes-to-eyes in their stances – in this beginning point of the fight, Hotaru tried out the game of distance, using inconsistent steps around her close premises to test what types of strikes her opponent was willing to try out in their current position.

Even from there, though, Aoi aimed even lower than what Hotaru was expecting, jabbing a rough foot against her ankle and capitalizing quickly on the follow-up. Jumping forward again, Aoi added up on the potential combo with two high-curving kicks that briefly juggled Hotaru straight into the air. Flipping backwards from the attacks, Hotaru somehow managed to roll back into place with little difficulty. Retaliating quickly with something of her own, she jumped straight out at Aoi with a twirling pinwheel of kicks that caught her in the midsection and pedaled down the Kusanagi relative's ribcage like a xylophone. Having left her opponent dazed after that, Hotaru followed up with a swiping left roundhouse across Aoi's chest to again force a sizable distance between the the two.

Aoi's chest was relished in a handful of bruises obscured by her slightly tattered attire, but she was more than willing to let that be. She smiled out at the blue-haired Kenpo trainee, "You're good."

"I usually try my best," said Hotaru, "just as long as there's sense in the fight."

"...Alright then." Aoi wasn't big on the spiritual stuff. It was usually just her, her ol' motor, and the occasional little spar with a random nobody.

Moving on with the fight, Aoi soared onwards with another strike, this time with a jumping axe kick that narrowly missed Hotaru as she evaded backwards. Landing and spinning with another kick aiming for the midsection, Aoi wound up caught by the foot, and Hotaru swept her other leg out from under her. Aoi quickly broke her short fall and charged forward once again, charging her elbow and shoulder against her opponent. Hotaru blocked it, but still took a bit of a pushaway in the absorption of the heavy thrust. Regardless, she approached with a relaxed little spiral forward with her carefree palms, and smashed her palms forward with a double-hand strike – Aoi blocked the blow with the brunt of her upper arm and took upon the opening with an elbow strike that caught Hotaru under her left arm, before going beyond a 360 spin as she jumped and twirled her left leg against Hotaru's back.

As she stumbled and nearly hit the floor in her disadvantaged situation, Hotaru almost worsened it herself as her ankle slightly tweaked at a wrong angle, and she wound up on one knee for a second. She got over it before long, and by this point, she was set to step it up to the next level now that she truly understood Aoi wasn't going to kid around with her mostly self-taught skills; she summoned forth her energy and struck an palm straight into Aoi's gut, pushing her away with an afterblast of blue sparking out in all directions.

The burning biker felt even her soul rattle a little bit when she felt the palm blast such aura against her body, and the aftertaste of it was without even the slightest flavor. However, on the surface of Aoi's mentality, alongside the brief pain, it felt like nothing she had experienced before in _any_ sort of fight. This was what it felt like, in a bout at this level – no wonder she was a part of a family carrying quite the powerful bunch...

Aoi simply grinned, taking upon that significant strike as something to step up on.

"Hey – two can play."

A short-term plan of action was thought out in her mind; with absolute control to her family-shared gift, Aoi's flames of glory emerged onto the surface of her fingers, and she flung it forward with a wide ring swiping out into a moderate wave of flame trailing straight ahead.

Knowing who exactly she was dealing with, and where they originated from, Hotaru had expected the fire to flourish eventually. Keeping her deep but brief fear within and refusing to let it show on her face, showed no hesitation in her next attack, as she flung more of her pure blue aura with a wide-curving kick, and it not only absorbed some of the flames, it drove what _wasn't_ back to its sender with a threat to snap back.

Wouldn't be the first fight to toy with flame deflection – that being Mai vs. Nakoruru – but Aoi would fair a bit better than the kunoichi of the previous fight, shifting sideways and letting the flames eventually fade away in the light breeze. She smashed into Hotaru again with the shoulder charge, and then swung around with a low sweep to take her down to the ground, afterwards finishing with an elbow dropping down against Hotaru's chest.

The fatigue of the hard-fought match started to ease in within Hotaru for the first time, as she stayed down for a little bit – but she was still stirring well in the midst of combat.

Aoi spoke down to her opponent. "I hope you're not planning on giving up now – I still wanna see more of you 'at your best'."

Hotaru was recovering decently, at this point half-kneeling. "Maybe you will..."

Now having built up some momentum in her recovering state, Hotaru spun out at Aoi with freely-waving palms taking against the Kusanagi all around her face and body. It did much to ruffle up Aoi's hair a bit, and to indirectly unzip her jumpsuit a slight bit more than it usually was, and aside from that, she was suddenly taking quite some hits, to the point where Hotaru brought her unreasonably high up into the air with the twirling wing-like slaparound combo she was tanking.

Eventually, Aoi was given her way back down to the ground, as Hotaru finished it with another energized hand slapping her down like a volleyball; the Kusanagi rebel landed nearly face-first against the carpeted floor. It was kinda surprising for her at how sudden her fortune went for the fight in a single combo.

Hotaru made a graceful landing to the ground, like a bird returning to its nest – albeit one with an irritated wing, as there was a little bit of a stumble since she wasn't at the finest condition in this stage of the fight. Although it almost felt like the fight was very suddenly hers, she could tell Aoi was still willing to give the rest of her percentage in the fight.

Hotaru sounded a little bit hesitant to speak up to her opponent, "Uhh... Aoi?"

"No... I'm fine. Really." Though she was swaying a little bit from what was clearly a rough landing for her, Aoi was prepared to return to her fighting stance. "Let's just give this match the finish it deserves, right?"

Like before the tournament began, Hotaru could sense some hidden discourse in the aura of Aoi. "I might as well..." she sighed, returning to her own stance and approaching with light caution.

Continuing the fight, Hotaru jumped in with a slicing, overarching axe kick that Aoi blocked precisely, and the Kusanagi girl would retort with a sluggish backhand strike of her own that gave the pure Kenpo fighter a not-so-lovely tap on the right of her face. Getting over the strike with a sliver of grogginess, Hotaru managed to block away the follow-up elbow thrust, shoving it away and keeping her distance as she returned to the infusion of energy within her small but strong-willed body. The core of the blue chi phasing through her accumulated in her left hand, and she approached with carefulness within, in case she potentially slipped up.

On the other side of things, Aoi generated something similar in her right hand, the flames of her fighting spirit, and she charged forward similarly as the fire was handled confidently. Ultimately, they clutched together, and the forces stuck together momentarily like a black hole.

Hotaru let one of her eyes squint shut against this up-close feeling of those flames. "Unngh! This heat, it's almost too much to bear...!"

Aoi asked back, "You really think you can handle the heat at _this_ rate, kid?"

Best case scenario, the opposing forces canceled each other out and they'd carry on with the match to its eventual finish; worst case – hard to describe, but in short, the fight would _definitely_ be over, but at the cost of a messy scene, and Elisabeth would be _piiiissed_.

On the bright side, Aoi at least had a free hand to deal with this deadlock however she can – and if she wanted to truly win this fight, she'd go forward with it, even if it meant...

...

...The thought crawled into her for a moment, and she gave it time before sighing within. _"...Ugh. Well, it couldn't hurt too badly, might as well..."_

Her left hand stretched out in the opposite direction of her other, and started to gather up the burning, sparking energy of another ball of flame. However, this was much different than the usual; in opposition to the general orange color of the flames in the clash, these were the purple flames she was 'gifted' with some time ago... Her fingers crushed into a fist as the purple embers held within, and she charged the hand against the opposing color.

Within seconds – _**fwoosh!**_ The orange and the purple swirled together and erupted into a heavy flash. On that moment, all Aoi saw for a moment was a bright white, as everything popped into temporary blindness for her.

A few seconds passed, and everything slowly came in as a blur to Aoi. From the looks of things, that worst case scenario did not exactly come into fruition as the combat zone looked relatively uncooked, and thank God for that. Probably a bad idea in theory to overload the flames, but at least it could've been much worse than it actually was. Maybe Hotaru could—

...

 _...Oh fuck, Hotaru._

Thankfully, before long, Aoi was able to find that Hotaru had indeed been blown a way's away, but luckily the blue-haired youthful was very little more than ruffled up from what she had been dealt with. Still she looked barely conscious at the moment, and in keeping up with how the tournament turned out throughout these prelims...

 **WINNER: Aoi Kusanagi**

Aoi walked over to where Hotaru laid, assured in the girl's survival by the low and quiet moans coming out of her.

Aoi asked, "Uhh... are you okay?"

Hotaru soon stirred into enough of a level of consciousness to respond, even if barely. All she could recall then, was the orange and the purple... "...Those flames... what... what _was_ that?"

"It's, uh... it's kind of a long story."

"I... I knew there was something deep within you, a secret of some sort..."

Aoi was starting to get a little uncomfortable with the subject at hand. "Really, it's... nothing really worth getting into." She chose to stretch a hand out to offer to the girl. "You need a little help?"

Hotaru could use the help – she could barely be able to get up on her own will after something so devastating quite literally blew up in her face, on _both_ ends of the clash. She took the hand of Aoi and was helped back to her feet in one pull...

...and she immediately clung onto Aoi's body in a hug, looking as if she wanted to fight back tears of worry that would try and come through from her ducts.

In this, she provided the ultimatum that she wanted the Kusanagi prospect to follow. "Please, promise me this – no matter what happens... you don't let it get to you."

Aoi didn't want to hold too tightly on her burdens. She knew of what baggage she had to carry thanks to her troubled past, and she knew what another with a similar curse felt.

" _I didn't have to live this way – but I choose now to hold my own against what tries to pry me from my mind..._ "

Aoi had tears of her own she had to enclose from release – and by this point, she had returned the embrace to the young Kenpo saint wrapped around her body.

"Don't worry... I won't."

* * *

 **Aoi vs. Hotaru was mainly a sort of throwaway / filler fight, I'll admit, but that's mainly because I wanted to end it on a fairly major fight to close the first round, like they should. Really, the ending portion of the match and the aftermath were what I actually enjoyed the most writing for with this fight.**

 **Next Chapter:** **And now... ...Another brief breather chapter – yes, by process of elimination, you know which two ladies have yet to do battle. Not just a little bit of prelude for those two heading into the final prelim match, but we will also see two first-round winners experiencing a bit of 'comfort', if you** ** _catch my drift._**


	23. INTERLUDE: Roman Hands, Russian Fingers

Having accomplished a grand victory to start off her week with the tournament, and afterwards being patched up for the cuts and bruises received, Mai Shiranui had one path left to go for the day – straight to bed.

She knocked and opened the door to her appointed room, and was met with Yuri on the other side, casually seated on the bed to the left with her eyes peering down at her phone.

Yuri didn't notice her friend coming in at first, and once her eyes glared off her phone and towards the door, she looked a little caught off-guard. Considering Aoi and Hotaru's bout had just ended by this point, and in regards to the other 'Women's Fighter Team' teammates, the karate girl was thinking Mai would've spent a little more time coping with the cuts and bruises she accumulated.

"Oh... hey there." Yuri fumbled a tiny bit with the greeting, having spent a bit too much focus on the phone for reasons to get to momentarily.

"Hey, Yuri." Mai greeted back, paying no mind to her friend's awkwardness. "Uhh... you mind?"

"Oh, right." Yuri scooched to the right a little bit, allowing enough room for the kunoichi to get re-acquainted with the bed.

Indeed, Mai did – by straight up plopping onto it, basically burying her face against the comfortable surface. She muffled, "Ohhh, I soooo needed this~!"

Though her eyes were starting to glance back towards her phone, Yuri could tell there was a feeling of exhaustion within her busty friend, especially in regards to the match the kunoichi went through. She asked, "Gotta say, you did great out there – even if the bird girl did a number on you in return."

Mai picked her head off the bed, retorting. "Damn right she did." She looked back at her left arm, which was now wrapped in ( _slightly bloodied_ ) bandages over where the significant wound was. Certainly wasn't going away so easily. "So how's _your_ day been?"

After a little bit of hesitation, Yuri responded. "Well... I've been keeping up with King since... well, since _Lien_ happened to her."

Mai would go without hearing about that brutal match again. She'd much rather deal with her own injuries... "How's she been?"

The Kyokugen girl detailed, "She's just _now_ getting out of treatment – thankfully nothing too serious, but she was out for a while, and she only just woke up like... right before _your_ match, I think."

Yuri had found out all this through texting the defeated bartender throughout the latter part of the hour – the very first text King had sent out after waking, it seemed, was a bluntly honest 'I feel like shit'. Further details had included some tidbits about how her other wounds had been treated while she was out, among other little things. Other than that, things were starting to lighten back up between them.

Yuri noted further, "She's gonna stop by our room and try and give us a little bit of a celebration for our victories – Alice also wants to stop by, but she's gonna need some help getting around since... well..."

"Yeah, I might've skimmed by her match – what's the deal there?" Mai didn't catch much of the young blonde's fight against Angel, but she saw it ended pretty prematurely with some implied unfortunate circumstances for the Fatal Cutie.

summed it up about as short and simple as she could. "Oh, her ankle's _fucked_."

Admittedly, that was quite the unsurprising news to figure out, especially from seeing the turnout of that match's outcome. Something went wrong for the Fatal Cutie, for sure. "Would've figured. That Angel chick's got some strong tits on her."

Yuri replied, "Still not as strong as yours, I bet."

Mai let out a flattered giggle, as she rolled over onto her back. "Thanks for that; I could use a bit of cheering up while I'm so sweaty and bothered. Not for a second was I expecting something lighter out of a tournament like this – but even then, whew~!"

Every muscle on Mai's voluptuous body was left exhausted from the 110% she gave against Nakoruru, and her limbs were enveloped in achiness and exhaustion. "Uh, Yuri?"

"Hmm?"

"You wouldn't mind helping me relax, wouldn't you?"

Yuri blinked twice, slightly reluctant to figuring out how the kunoichi was going to 'relax'. "Uhhh...

"Yeah, I know – usually, Andy handles that sort of work on me, but... at this point, I'm open to anyone while I'm away from him." Mai's eyes pleaded like someone who would certainly benefit from the help. "C'mon – for a friend?"

It's not like Yuri needed much preparation to get handy with someone like how her friend needed – she had taken off her gloves long before, though only because it would've gotten in the way of her fiddling with her phone. Still, she was a little unsure since she was dealing with someone who was already taken, even if that someone was _drop dead gorgeous_. On the other hand, it's not like it was out in public or within somewhere where people could find out real quick – and she trusted the people working on the tournament to keep details _within_ the mansion.

"Uh... alright..." Yuri moved herself closer to the kunoichi laying supine. "Just know I don't really know my way around a massage.

"No, it's fine – c'mon, start from here." Mai offered her left arm up towards the karate girl sitting beside her. "Just work around the bandage, okay?

Yuri complied, still a little awkward about tip-toeing around this whole deal. She eventually took a hand into Mai's, a bit of intertwining between their fingers as Yuri slowly started with the wrist and worked down, outside of the obvious radius of the injury – she went from forearm to shoulder, handling the kunoichi's tense shoulder muscles with as much care as she knew to provide with it.

"Hmhmhmmm... feeling better already." Mai found it a little easier to roll her shoulder in little circles, as her friend felt it out.

Yuri was starting to get into the groove from here, sliding a slight more closer until her knees started to touch the shoulders of her on-and-off KoF partner. "Alright, you need to be up a little bit for this..." Soon enough, her hands hovered beneath the crevice between the bed and Mai's shoulders, as she started to push her up into an upright, seated position. "Just... up you go~"

Though it probably wasn't a great idea to sit up, Mai trusted Yuri to help her feel better all around after such undertaking through her fight against Nakoruru, even with the inexperience in something like this – the Kyokugen girl's firm, combat-experienced hands felt about on the kunoichi's back, switching between wavy motions and something more circular as Yuri tried to figure out the prime format to this nice and smooth rubdown.

Mai felt her spine relax a little bit as she allowed the Sakazaki prospect to buff out the kinks and bruises piled up from the Nakoruru fight, and she hummed casually to herself as she closed her eyes and kept a hold of her happiest of thoughts. It felt great to unwind after a hard-fought battle, even more when a friend was alongside her to help with the mental repose the ninja needed in the midst of combat going around the mansion. The next match was probably going to start up any minute now...

All the while, as she worked out the smooth-as-butter skin of the sexy kunoichi, Yuri eventually surveyed the white strands that were splintered into halves out the back of Mai's apparel. "Geez, this looks like it's in some rough shape – surprised you haven't fallen out of your costume with this ropes all... snapped and stuff."

Mai then admitted, "I _almost_ did, a couple times in the care room – but they know what they're doing."

It was at that moment, recalling back to the makeshift infirmary, that something suddenly came to the ninja babe's mind. "Oh! Almost forgot..."

Yuri leaned out from behind Mai. "Forgot what? There another kink to work out or something?"

Mai started to fiddle within her attire, in between her breasts, for something. " _Well_... I'm not exactly invulnerable to the flames – especially when the 'bird girl' flung them back at me," she explained. "Chiz recommended I tend to my goods with something nice and wet. Aloe vera, lotion, et cetera – something that isn't an oil or something like it."

Yeah, Yuri didn't notice it at first, but she did start to realize that the area around the exposed chest of the kunoichi was a _little_ red, and looked as if it could need tending to in some way or another.

Mai's explanation continued from there, "I'm not letting my looks get too fucked up – we all got fans to please, after all. Hup~!"

Mai tossed something over her shoulder, right into Yuri's reflexively catching hands – a nice little bottle of honey.

Mai explained the choice before Yuri could figure it out on her own. "I decided on something that'll smell nice – just for the hell of it. Might wanna shift around to apply it, I hope you don't mind."

"I, uh... I think I can handle it." Yuri went straight ahead to squirt a bit of the fluid and spread it about on her hands. "Uh, if I get a little bit too hands-on—"

"No-no, that's fine by me. It's just us girls hanging around, no need to be shy about it." Mai was laying back down at this point, ready for the honey.

"...I guess."

Shifting about, curving around in a 180, Yuri found herself straddling atop her 'alluring ninja' friend, her hands slick with the honey seconds before she started to feel them against the space above Mai's breasts, helping to rub down the spotty redness on her tense skin.

At first, Mai winced. "Ngh, not _too_ rough now..." She tried to giggle it off along the way.

"Sorry~" Yuri softly apologized, awkwardly chuckling to herself whilst calming the circular movement on her friend's chest.

Once things settled down into a rhythmic rubbing onto her body, Mai nearly let herself go limp in allowing herself to the touch of another. "Mmmmm..."

Those moans sounded a bit sensual, admittedly... she was a tad overwhelmed with the sensation spreading about on her body – she needed a little bit of something to hold onto, and she ultimately chose to have a grasp onto Yuri's legs. She had a brief squeeze when she initially grabbed onto the thighs enveloped beneath those sleek purple leggings of Yuri, and the feeling was too smooth to let go of.

"Oh wow..."

"How's that feelin' for you?" asked Yuri, having heard Mai moan out. She had to think it was all from the tangy honey touch, and the nice smell slowly flourishing.

Mai responded, a serenely amazed tone lying within how she spoke. "Yeah, it—it feels awesome... It's just... I think we're both feeling some good stuff outta this."

Yuri had not paid attention to her legs being slowly felt up and down – but at this exact point, she had realized it from the particular squeeze on her leggings, as Mai's left hand hovered especially high on her. "Whoa~!"

Mai giggled in amazement at the toned, shapely nature of Yuri's kickin' limbs. "Wow... all that karate's gotten you feeling real fit around there." Almost a tantalizing feeling, on top of the welcoming feeling atop her chest.

"Y-yeah... _real fit_." Yuri was starting to share the hot and bothered feeling – she wasn't quite in support of how, but she just kinda let it happen without her input, continuing to roam her hands about, a little wider by this point, around Mai's chest in need of slickness.

However, on Mai's point of view, she was less focused on the honey spread glistening on her body, and more on where her hands were going. Something about how it felt to especially focus on the legs of the karate babe left the lusty kunoichi a little entranced by it, continuing to grab and squeeze at it.

"Uhhhhhh~," Yuri's voice quivered as she whimpered awkwardly against the fondling going on around her lower body. Even _she_ was starting to lose focus with the whole massage plan they started with.

Mai assured, "Don't mind me – just tryin' to have a little bit of fun myself..."

This was promptly followed up by the complete abandonment of the ninja dame's resistance to the thickness going on in the palms of her hands, and getting herself two handfuls, bringing her hands fully against Yuri's spandex-encased buttocks with an audible _**smack!**_

" _Oooh_ -kay...!" Yuri's face was flushed with red by this point, as she held down the urge to moan; she started to shift away from atop Mai's body, trying to escape before it gets _too_ weird for her to handle. "Uhh, I think you're good enough—!"

"Oh, nonono, Yuri, gimme a moment with this!" Mai was no longer being subtle about what kind of kicks this was getting out of her, as she started to sit back up, embracing her friend into a hug that was mostly intent to hold her down by her legs.

For a second, Yuri struggled a bit with the grasp the kunoichi locked her down tightly with, but she couldn't help but admit there was something deep within her that wanted to see where things went from here – and from the looks of it, the whole situation was now revolved around her fine booty.

"Seriously, girl," chuckled Mai, "you're making up for your upper half with all this meat down here!" She allowed her palms to lay idly around Yuri's buttocks as she pulled the karate girl down a little more against the bed. "Maybe bend yourself a little, poke your butt out a little more?" She knew a thing or two about showing off 'them curves', and was willing to pass it along, even if it was just for her own spontaneous interests here and now.

Though Yuri unconsciously complied to arch herself a little bit to provide Mai the curvature she wanted, she knew this _really_ wasn't what the handy ninja usually did with her fellow ladies, and it certainly smelled not of honey, but of something based on cause-and-effect – maybe time away from her lover without much 'action', alongside the whole business with the massage and the slickening rubdown, was getting the kunoichi a little... _thirsty._

Yuri had given up the resistance to the kunoichi's deviant touch a while ago, and was almost unable to speak for a moment longer, opting more for unsure groans and stutters. " _U~h~hhhhhh..._ "

"I usually don't do this, but I gotta find out..." Mai's hands found the waistband of Yuri's leggings, pulling downwards on it almost immediately to find the skin beneath the spandex. It was a little more than she expected, as Yuri's plump rump fluffed out into freedom from beneath the purple tights like muffin tops — and like muffins, that ass looked more than good enough to maybe munch on. " _God damn_ – this is ridiculous. Robert must be getting it on with you for a _reason_."

Yuri eventually found some words escaping her throat, "Y-yeah... he's k-kind of an ass man, I'l—I'll admit..."

It had devolved from the warmth and comfort of the massage – and Mai, with eyes closed shut in naughty imaginings, was just plain nuzzling at the right hip right against Yuri's partially exposed butt, humming happily with what she couldn't resist any longer. Compared to her own shapely butt, which she would've still considered superior to the 'weapon of ass destruction' found within Yuri's pants, Mai was basically magnetized. "Fuck, we need to do stuff like this _more often_." She succumbed to a happy little giggly fit as she hugged Yuri's butt for as long as she could.

And then the door opened up again.

From there, Mai's smile faded when she opened her eyes and immediately felt herself as being caught in among the most compromising of positions – she basically fell into a catatonic state.

"W-what's wrong? What did—?" Yuri almost toppled herself over shifting her body around to look towards the door – and she cut herself short once she saw what greeted those two.

King stared back from the doorway, looking utterly baffled and stunned silent as the two girls who were engaged in silly buttplay not too far from where she stood. To her left, only able to stand as much as she could with the crutch she was appointed, Alice looked... just _very_ confused about what she was looking at.

Almost too sheepish for words, Alice managed to let out a question to King. "...is this what you girls usually do when you're together?"

"No," answered King. "It isn't."

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** **With silly naughtiness out of the way for _this_ chapter, Leona clashes with the Hakkesshu, having to engage against the sharp-nailed Mature in the final match of the Tournament of Dignity's first round! Will the Ikari Warrior hold back the wrath of Orochi's remnants, or will pure evil score another win heading into the second round?**


	24. R1: Leona Heidern vs Mature

**OPENING ROUND – MATCH #16 (FINAL)  
** **Leona Heidern vs. Mature**

* * *

Fully prepared for the combat to come, Leona stood still in the midst of a near-empty hall, the air much more quiet than usual, to the point of it being almost completely silent, aside from one consistent sound.

 _Thump-thump... Thump-thump..._

Her heartbeat was usually her way of detecting it – the underlying essence of darkness, absolute impure wickedness coming her way. With 30 other competitors having come and gone through the same ritual of battle throughout the day, it was nearing nightfall when it was down to her, and the one other person she had to face. She couldn't care less about 'bragging rights' or giving Blanctorche the strong showing of what she considered a dignified fighter – her mission lied elsewhere, towards a more personal gain, and she was looking to at least partially fulfill it with this match.

Footsteps drew closer and closer to the premises of the combat zone – and out the corner of the soldier's eye, a she-devil emerged...

"How lovely of you to wait for me..."

Mature's sultry voice resounded through the quiet hall, as she surfaced out into her opponent's sight, in a good-as-new suit, looking the same as the one she ended up disposing of after some very _frisky_ business with her partner earlier in the day. Speaking of, Vice was noticeably absent for the moment – possibly still tending to the knife wound, and whatever else had come around for her between then and now.

Leona's silent stare was often cold enough to freeze the composure of a fellow competitor – dealing with a member of the Hakkesshu, however, it didn't have much of an effect on the sinister blonde coming closer?

"Same as ever, eh?" Mature then giggled. "If I didn't know those eyes like Orochi did, I would've figured you might have a thing for me."

Leona retorted simply, "That's enough out of you."

Mature continued to act at least relatively 'social' towards the Ikari Warrior before her. "Hmph. Can't handle a little banter? Everyone's been partaking in it – no need to shy away from a bit of fun here and there..."

"No. This won't be 'fun' – _this_ is an intervention." Leona didn't forget the destruction Vice brought upon her enlisted partner in Fio, and she would never let go of it unless she brought closure to the feud, here and now.

The supposedly 'assuring' smile on Mature started to fade as she shrugged and kept her distance, finding no need for further foreplay before trading fists. "Whatever – we've dealt with your little friend, I'll be sure to do the same with you."

"I'm ending the carnage before it begins." Leona's hands posed out beyond her sides, flat-palmed and pointed out towards her target. "Prepare yourself, vixen."

"Vixen? You're _far_ too kind..." Mature let her right hand linger out confidently as she too took position for the battle.

Good and evil stood only a few feet from making contact – and only one would win.

 _ **FIGHT!**_

Leona took no time to make physical contact with her rival; she rushed against Mature within seconds later, attempting to tackle the sinister being to the ground, and although Mature had managed to prevent a grounded-down situation and held her own against the soldier's pushing power, that was only at the _first_ moment. Before it could be countered in some way, Leona curved her force towards the left and drove straight against the hallway wall to that direction, pinning against it and going in immediately for hard blows to follow up.

Even then, though, Leona had to deal with her opponent's impressive reflexes, as her first fist missed as a result of Mature flicking her neck away from contact – instead, that fist met the wall, and cracked it, but from there, Leona shook off the stinging of her knuckles and tried again with another punch. Same result, different side of the head, as Mature evaded the other way and caused the Ikari Warrior to put _another_ subtle crack, almost identical to the last, into the wall.

Mature swooped an arm underneath one of Leona's legs and swept the stoic lady right out from under her own feet – the Hakkesshu beauty took a position atop her foe as they barreled down to the floor together, and Leona was quickly handled down by the wrists as the blonde on top of her gazed deeply on her with pain intent.

It didn't take long for Mature to start taunting as she pinned down the soldier, refusing to let go those cracks in the wall that the match had already prompted. "You might want to be careful where your fists go around here – you may risk Blanctorche's wrath."

The pseudo-unassuming giggle of the seductress did not budge Leona's mind, as she swung one leg in a sideways curve and hooked around against Mature's waist, putting nothing but her own strength towards the right as she keeled the position over and under, forcing Mature to the ground and then stomping down on her. The rough-heeled boot was grinding briefly against Mature's gut as she grabbed against it with both hands. Her legs extended up from her kneeling/laying position as she lifted herself back into active action, but Leona continued to fight valiantly against the Hakkesshu lady's attempts at defense, pushing her against the wall with the stomping foot and continuing to rush down on her.

Leona slammed her right forearm against the neck of Mature, while having to fight off the thrusting kick beneath that lopped her somewhat in the stomach. The Ikari soldier's face still read as nearly emotionless, but one could still recognize the disdain she had for followers of the Orochi, from how aggressively she was going at her opponent.

The match didn't find a legitimate topple of momentum yet, however, so Leona wasn't going to hold onto any sort of an advantage for too much longer. With a swift swipe across, Mature caught Leona with a fierce right-hand slap across the face, the nails pointing out at an angle to scratch efficiently and budge the stoic soldier enough to force her away.

Leona immediately felt the air tingling against the fresh scratches decorating her left cheek, but she wasn't going to let it slow her pace in the brawl. Unfortunately, the focused bluenette had no choice in the matter – Mature had returned the favor with a tackle of her own to smash Leona against that very same wall, and the blonde's right hand afterwards charged out against the center of Leona's face, attempting to gouge at her eyes and nose with no lingering regret to dirty tactics.

Again, Leona fought back with punches, this time aiming below where Mature was focusing with her own defense – once the Ikari Warrior managed to settle into a brief combo with the stomach jabs, she managed to lop aside Mature's head with a resounding slap to trade back for the clawed aggression she received not long before. When that didn't do much beyond staggering the reserved psychopath, a jumping kick of Leona's ultimately provided the knockdown on Mature that was quite necessary for the Ikari Warrior's advantage.

Mature slid down against the wall for a moment as she took a moment of reprieve, leaving her open to further punishment. Though retaining the stoic expression, Leona felt as though she was very much welcome to settling the vendetta from the first round and beyond – she rushed forward with hands preparing energy, intending to slice apart this feud until it was nothing but minuscule bits and pieces.

 _Mature blocked it_ , with a grasp upon both hands, before it could fully unleash – handling the opponent's wrist with each of her own well-clutching hands, the blonde put a boot against the well-defined stomach of Leona, seconds before the mercenary would break free of the nightmarish beauty's grasp. Right as she escaped, however, Leona took more slashing punishment as Mature did a cross-slash of her own with her razor-sharp nails, indirectly trimming off a few strands of blue hair in the process. From here, Mature continued her very handsy approach on the soldier before her, as she grabbed Leona by the face and forced her against the wall – a plentiful amount of wall-hogging action, it looked like.

Mature spoke down to her opponent in a moment of dominance... "In life _and_ in death, we take what we want – you just need to learn to accept it."

Leona only grunted out against the violent blonde, her frustration to the dispute clear as she struggled against it. It evolved quite negatively into a brief yell for her, as Mature's hand felt roughly against the fresh wounds on the left side of her face. Suddenly, the Ikari soldier felt herself being dragged across the width of the hall, smashing against the opposite wall in an eerily similar situation to how her partner in Fio fared against the other half of the devious duo they were set against. Leona felt her back smash horrifically into the hard surface a few times more before Mature unhanded her, seeming to want to consider something else for a change.

The soldier started to crumble onto her knees, feeling a little hazy as she took enough particular damage to render some uncomfortable feelings not only downwards on her spine, in a near ripple wave down to her legs, but also upwards up her neck and head in the wide aftershock. Even her ears nearly felt disconnected internally, as she lost some of what she heard outside of the littlest ambiance, and the heartbeat within that intensified slightly at the moment – as if more of a presence emerged...

 _Thump-thump... Thump-thump..._

The reason for that quickly became clear – the odd absence that initially graced the fight was unfortunately filled, as Vice was now seen off to the side, still not quite 100% with what she's experienced thus far.

As though things couldn't be _more_ of a problem for Leona's usually well-handled mental state...

"Fuck..." Vice cricked her neck around, working out the kinks of her remaining discomfort. "Anything I miss?"

"Nothing of importance," Mature responded back. "Just ridding ourselves of the filth, as usual..."

Mature clutched onto the blue hair of her opponent, scruffing it more as she pulled on the locks and dragged her current 'victim' to their feet. However, that was only as far as she got before she was suddenly struck... Leona broke away from the handling of the Hakkesshu menace, swiping her right hand across and rendering a slice against Mature's midsection, with enough strength and sharpness in its aura to actually tear into the attire of the blonde – it even tore beyond, scratching significantly into the skin beneath the suit and sparking a drip of blood.

It all wound up seeming like a reflection to an earlier case, as the cut rendered at the right of Mature's gut in a similar, though not as drastic, fashion to the stab wound Vice picked up in _her_ bout. Regardless, Mature was not taking it sitting down, as she retorted with a hand swiping outwards for some potential facial reconstruction, but Leona halted the claw and continued to work on the wound of her opponent with a boot against the gut, before grabbing Mature by the throat and forcing her to take her turn against the wall.

" _You stay out of this._ " Leona glared out at the spectating redhead, slicing into the presence of the Orochi with the eyes as sharp as shattered glass.

Vice stared back in a snide disdain towards the soldier of opposing hair color – forced to stand by or else risk disqualification, she watched as Mature's struggle continued for a brief moment longer right in front of her.

Eventually, Mature broke loose from her predicament, kicking Leona with a sharp hard-toed thrust forward against her chest. Recontinuing her offense, the vicious blonde secretary swiped left and right with a couple more kicks that started to rip into the green attire of Leona, maintaining a forced position right against the wall the soldier was stood against in the narrow hallway that could nearly render claustrophobia with how tight it was in its overall width.

Mature brought in the finality of this specific combo of kicks, with one more slashing upwards in such a flexible stretch of her reckless footwork – even the air looked to be visibly sliced away, right before Leona's shirt followed suit, ripping open alongside the vibrant red blood that flung itself out into the open from the significant cut that rendered in the middle of her chest.

Now the two competitors both had their fair share of wounds received from the other, and the painting of the walls in the red of humanity being demolished in the enclosure started to ensue as the crescent trail of blood from the significant slashing kick splattered on the curve end of where the wall and ceiling met behind and above where it came from. Leona stumbled back into the wall again, her spine pressed against it as Mature held her in place with her lingering right foot.

"Are you ready to yield _now_ , soldier?"

"Nngh... go to hell..." Leona strained out, still taking in the lingering pain of the cut rendered right up her chest and the bottom end of her neck.

The adoptive daughter of Heidern was at a state of disorder now, exhausted and stressed by the punishment she took time and time again throughout the fight. Even with the integrity still relatively intact, the blood that started to sporadically paint about around the locale of the fight had not done justice to the type of situation that Leona had finally found herself in.

Mature tilted herself forwards, nearly touching faces with her opponent in a matter of an uncomfortably close situation. "Who am I to be surprised that someone such as you would not give in as easily as the rest? Such a shame, but such a blessing in disguise."

As the sadistic blonde spoke, one of her hands hovered out to a side and began to fondle against the right ear of the soldier. Her professionally stoic and focused nature depleting even if barely, Leona winced briefly as the sharp-nailed thumb of her opponent started to scratch ever so slightly into her ear canal, but just the brief flinch of her body prompted something further in the Orochi follower. Mature's other hand shoved itself against the chest of Leona, right where the dreadful wound was at its most open. That roaming hand not only toyed with the wound in parts and bits, but also the shirt of the green attire; from the looks of things, the seductive nightmare looked to be trying to rip further into the increasingly tattered clothing, threatening to expose more skin alongside those bothersome cuts, just for some personal dominance and sick kicks – along with maybe fulfilling another very fucked up fetish for her red-haired cohort watching on from a short distance away.

Mature giggled with upmost confidence, toying with the body of her opponent with methodical and sinister intentions. "No need to resist – simply entrust yourself to my hands, just this once..."

Boundaries were far beyond stepped over, clearly – and Leona wasn't going to let it advance further. Before too much of her was unveiled into the sight of her opponent, Leona retaliated swiftly with a strike, her left fist swinging across with her thumb pointing out and jabbing straight into the right eye of Mature. Keeping the thumb forced against the eye of her opponent, Leona again forced the momentum towards her own favor as she shoved the Hakkesshu bitch against the opposing wall of the hallway.

As soon as her eye caught the full brunt of the thumbing jab, Mature lost the smooth composure and was back into defense as she dealt with the pained struggled with nothing more than pure frustration.

"You _bitch...!_ " Mature's left hand jabbed out at a downward curve towards Leona's midsection, clawing against the soldier's stomach with nails that slightly dug themselves through the fabric on impact alone, but just that alone wasn't benefiting much to her newfound situation as she was still getting her right eye gouged into her socket.

Vice was not liking what she was seeing right now, with her partner on the ropes at the moment. "Fuck's sake – if I have to get involved, tournament be damned, I will...!"

Without even a slight bit of hesistation, Leona acted on the possibility of interference – removing the earring on her right ear, she tossed it a slight way's towards the frustrated redhead – within seconds, there was a bright flash and eventually a cloud of smoke, and the potential incoming interference was dealt with quite swiftly.

With the smoke and light bellowing across the hall, all Leona and Mature could see were themselves, being so close against each other in the struggle, and at this point, Leona had the upper hand on things with fierce knees driving against the gut of Mature again and again _and again_ while she continued to handle her thumb against the eye of her opponent.

After what felt like an hour's worth of eye-involved punishment, Mature was briefly relieved to feel her right eye escape the clutches of her opponent before she'd need that eyepatch again – though she would realize very soon enough it wasn't quite the end for her pain.

Slicing crosswise with both hands, the blue chi of Leona's sharp power slashed against Mature with no resistance met on fabric or body – a significant splatter of blood spurted out at the Hakkesshu secretary's sides as she slammed back against the wall with a harrowing scream. It was _still_ not quite the end just yet, as Leona's right hand sparked with one last bit of punishment coming right up – slicing down against Mature's body, and then right back up to form a brief V shape lingering around the opponent, it sizzled briefly on the front and back.

A brief, firey explosion ensued, and a sizable amount of the wall had crumbled in the process, leaving dust alongside the destruction right in front of Leona as she watched it go down. Her serious nature had recovered well by this point, as she stared against the cloud of dust to survey the outcome of her techniques.

Once everything settled, it had become clear just how Mature's condition had resulted from the fight, as she was on the ground, a bloody, twitching mess ravaged by soot and flame in the midst of the gaping hole in the wall that was now leading out into the outdoors as a result of the fight's destructive end. Once the barely-conscious body of eventually slinked through the hole and out into the grassy outdoors with a thud, it was clear just who could be considered the winner now.

 **WINNER: Leona Heidern**

* * *

"We're done here," Leona simply declared through a slightly shortened breath, as she broke away from her fighting stance and stood straight as a woman accomplished. She started to make her leave – but other factors proved against her destination.

The blue-haired soldier was suddenly swooped away from where she was about to go, and brought against the remnants of the half-destroyed wall by the angered other-half of the targets of her self-appointed mission.

"Not just yet, you smileless piece of shit," Vice growled out, with one hand pressing against Leona's wounded chest, and the other firmly wrapped around the throat. "Like it or not, you're not ruining any more of what we want to do with this pathetic little tournament! Even if I have to do it alone...!"

Having already dealt with one supreme nuisance that could've potentially defeated her, Leona was not exactly ready to tackle another – thankfully, she wouldn't have to, thanks to further interventions...

Quite abruptly, Vice was tackled at her left and surprisingly floored in one fell swoop by another incoming character.

From how sudden that person sped into the fray and caught the remaining Hakkesshu psychopath when she least expected it, Leona almost couldn't tell who exactly was coming to her rescue – but soon she recognized the red and black colors of the cavalry's biker jumpsuit, and the recollection of the fellow woman came smoothly to her.

"Don't even think about it, you crazy stupid fuck!" Partially intent on dealing with her Orochi-themed problems head-on, Aoi was raining down punches on Vice outside of Leona's line of sight while the soldier was recovering on her own. The Kusanagi relative's frustrated voice was alongside sounds of _very_ hard punches making consistent contact – spending more time having to catch her breath than anything else at the moment, Leona didn't bother to look towards the sudden fight going on

"You okay?" A hand wavered down towards Leona, and she glanced up at a slightly ruffled up Aoi in turn, confirming the Kusanagi's having come out on top of that brief incident. As the soldier accepted the hand of the biker and was helped up, she couldn't help but wonder...

"...You came to help me?" Leona seemed a little... surprised by _who_ she was being aided by at this moment – it wasn't quite like they were the _best_ of friends just yet, let alone ladies who knew each other for _more than a day._

Aoi explained, "The fight wasn't too far from where I was watching – I figured something was gonna go down after the end, and I wasn't gonna just sit there and let it happen... especially with someone like _her_ involved..." She glanced towards where Vice laid not too far away, the redhead still somewhat conscious, cursing under her breath.

Leona began to speak up again, "You didn't have to..."

"But I _did,_ " Aoi said. "Trust me – this was too personal for me to let by. I just..."

The conversation quickly started to stumble into some unfortunately awkward silence, as expressions to discuss how they're feeling by the end of all this chaos would need words that weren't yet found at the moment – a lot had happened within this past half-hour between the both of them, and it was more than a little difficult to move past it all by just standing there and talking about it.

"Let's... let's just get out of here... okay?" Aoi kept herself close to Leona, an arm wrapped around the back of the soldier to make sure she didn't have too much trouble moving about.

"Right..." Leona nodded, allowing an arm of her own to curve around the shoulders of Aoi.

The two made their way out of the scene of the battle, leaving the crumbled forces of Hakkesshu alone with the dirt, fire and scattered concrete accumulated.

The first round was finally at an end now, as newfound friends wanted to settle down from the high-impact violence and see what comes next...

* * *

 **My goal for this chapter was at least 3K words with most of it consisting of the fight, and I think I might've accomplished it quite well, all things considered.**

 **So with that, the first round of the Tournament of Dignity is finally at a close, after months of writing and seeing so many ladies duke it out.  
Let's see the 16 fortunates who managed to break through to the second round:  
**

 **Mainline KoF: Leona Heidern, Kula Diamond, Angel, Vice, Shermie, Luong  
KoF Spinoffs: Aoi Kusanagi, Moe Habana, Mignon Beart, Lien Neville, Nagase  
Art of Fighting / Fatal Fury: Yuri Sakazaki, Mai Shiranui, Blue Mary Ryan  
** **The Rest: Love Heart, Athena Asamiya**

 **With some darkhorse victories, a couple surprising losses, and a more than a few obvious victors, the second round is looking quite interesting. For the next couple chapters, though, there's gonna be a bit of an afterparty for those who remain, and maybe a bit of something for the other half of the spectrum that couldn't make it to the second round. Considering I've had a few weeks of sporadic writing for just this round-ending chapter alone, it may be a little while – more than likely, I'll probably be finished working on the whole between-rounds set of chapters before I continue updating, so be sure to hold onto that patience for a little bit while I figure things out. See you then!**


	25. POST-ROUND: Road to Recovery

Around 7 PM, as it would be in the Central European time zone, was around the point where the tournament's aftermath was starting to truly settle – the past hour saw the last handful of matches in this long afternoon of fists thrown, blood spilled and more than bones being broken, and beyond the medical evaluations and other necessary needs for recovery, all that was truly left to do was let the rest of the night unwind into celebration and relaxation.

* * *

"Mary – quick quess'ion..."

"Yeah?"

"Y' think I wen' a lil' too hard on th' drink?"

Probably super easy to take a guess on the answer – Vanessa was filled up enough on the sweet stuff to the point of being unable to go anywhere without having herself draped around her partner.

"I think you tried a little to hard to impress that kid," answered Mary. It was only natural that the post-match get-together between the two fighting agents and Tsugumi would end in someone getting tipsy, and of the three, it was the most obvious candidate to take the booze-infused cake.

"C'mon, 'Nes. You need somewhere to lay down for a little bit." Mary was on her way to bring her drunken partner back to the recovery room – a closer path from the bar room than the one back to their own proper accommodations. The door was always open, equally welcoming to any and all who needed some sort of help whether after a match or something that acquired the necessary attention.

Recent patients by the end of the round included Ai coming off a horrific chill from all that snow, as well as relatively recovered girls in May Lee, Nakoruru and Hotaru. No sign of Mature after her recent KO, and that would be for a reason coming later...

As soon as the two entered the room, another voice sounded off within it, that being the enlisted maid in Iroha. "What seems to be the problem over here?" she asked.

Mary explained to the maid. "Just dropping off someone who needs to sober up." With a little bit of struggle, she heaved the shitfaced body of her friend onto the nearest unoccupied bed. "You wouldn't mind fetching some water so she doesn't feel too much like shit in the morning, would ya?"

Iroha accepted the order with a light bow. "Right away, miss."

"Well, clearly, you two had some fun..."

Mary turned in a half-circle to meet the voice talking to her – which belonged to Aoi, who was besides the bed to the right alongside the again-stoic yet relaxed Leona, just minutes off from the insanity of the first round's finale match and its aftermath. The soldier clearly needed some checking up on her wounds, and the biker alongside her was hanging by for the long run.

"Oh, hey," Mary greeted. Immediately, she started to recall, "Glad to see you girls survived all that stuff with the secretaries."

"Barely," Aoi said back. "You know how they are; all grabby and scratchy. Was it _ever_ gonna be easy? Hell no... but we pulled through."

"We'd drink to that. Well... at this point, probably just me." Mary looked back towards her intoxicated partner for a moment, before returning back to the conversation. "Uhh, Leona – anything to say?"

As usual, Leona didn't have much input to put in, but her thoughts towards those Orochi vixens was simple and effective. "Hmph... they were better off staying dead."

Mary paused for a moment, as if to speak up on that thought... before ultimately giving in to full agreement. "Speaking for all of us there."

Aoi nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure it wasn't just me who wanted competition to come first in all this – then the crazies come piling in." She was probably the most objected to people like those of the Hakkesshu getting involved in the business of this quote 'private tournament'. "Already knocked out one part of that problem – here's to hoping we deal with the rest of it before... well..."

"Before..." Mary rolled her hand out, hoping to help the Kusanagi prospect finish the sentence. "...Yeah?"

The sporadically spoken Leona coined in, "It's complicated."

Looking into the potential connection that she noticed between Aoi and Leona at this point and the obvious connection the step-daughter of Heidern had towards the Orochi, some pieces _started_ to click in Mary's head.

Unfortunately, it was still a bit of an incomplete puzzle. The blonde agent eventually spoke again, "Well, I sure as hell hope we don't fall too deep into that..."

 _Tink-thud~!_ "Shit."

The first thing that sprung to mind to all that heard the brief noise resulted in focus turning towards Vanessa, and her unfortunate attempt at handling the sobering water – with a limp wrist knocking it over within seconds of delivery. The redhead muttered, unable to even curl her fingers around the now-tipped over glass.

Within the awkward silence, Mary made sure to explain to Iroha, "She had a shit-ton to drink. Also, the whole fight she had earlier, with her head going through the wall... _probably_ not a good idea to try and let her try and handle anything right now."

Iroha nodded, showing some light worry with the buzzed condition of the boxer. "Hmm. I suppose a refill is needed here..."

"Yeah, y' do that, lady," Vanessa slurred briefly, swatting out at the air in front of her as the maid before her made her way back to the nearby sink. Afterwards, the redhead agent let her face sink a little more into the bed beneath her... "Man, this shit's comfy..."

Even with the acknowledgment of how deep of a stupor Vanessa was with all the stuff she had to drink, and how much she really needed the recovery after such an eventful day for her, it was hard not to admit it was kind of a cute sight to see an often-professional agent being so far off her brain as a result.

Mary had a bit of a positively baffled grin on her face. "You thinkin' you can handle being here while you sober up?

Vanessa retorted, "Yea'. Whatev'r. As long 's that maid keeps— _urp_ —keeps up th' good work." She rolled over onto her left side, maintaining a glance towards the appointed maid that was continuing to provide aid. It may have been—scratch that, it was _totally_ the alcohol talking, but the redhead was incredibly focused on that cute servant and that... _intriguing_ attire.

A brief silence, and then Vanessa finally started to speak up on those thoughts... "'Nother question, Mary?"

"Yeah?"

"You think if I ask her to sit on m' face, she'd do it?"

Mary's eyebrows raised up so fast they could've flung off into orbit if they weren't bound to her face. "... _What_."

Even Aoi to the side leaned out upon overhearing. "Uhh... she just asked what I thought she just asked, right?"

Vanessa drunkenly chuckled in response to the baffled reaction besides her. "Fuck's sake, girls – have y' seen that maid's ass? Someone's gotta put that trunk to good use..."

Mary found it hard to stiffle her utter bewilderment. "'Nes, please – you're drunk, if you're gonna need to rest, I _think_ you might need some _proper_ pillows. _Plus, I'm pretty sure she can hear you..._ "

She wasn't wrong – Iroha wasn't going to be taking _that_ long with the water, and by the time she was back, the agents glanced ahead together and saw the maid standing before them, her face shaded slightly in a blushy pink as she stood awkwardly.

Eventually, Iroha commented, "I... don't think Miss Blanctorche informed me on whether or not I _should_ go forward with orders like that."

Before Vanessa could speak up, Mary silenced her with a hand cupping over the redhead's mouth, retorting swiftly, " _Please don't encourage her._ "

Good idea – otherwise, it would probably draw some ire out of Elisabeth with all this uncouth behavior going on with her cohorts.

* * *

Speaking of 'uncouth behavior'...

"Winner's circle, bitches!"

Hanging out in the bar room moments after had to be helped out of it outside of her own drunken accord, the floor was now given to Angel for her own celebration. This celebration, 'of course', involved her recklessly handling a couple of cactus-juice beers * (somehow that was a choice), slamming them down on the bar for herself to enjoy alongside others.

Among the others included Nagase, who was treated to one of the unnecessary glasses, and was quickly sparked with surprise, and not quite in the most positive sort. She never really acknowledged many drinks that were such an odd shade of green.

Nagase voiced her opinion quickly, staring down the clear green in revulsion. "...You don't expect me to actually drink that, right?"

Angel was seated atop the bar, with quite the tempting posture. "If you wanna win – I don't keep myself in this sort of shape _just_ by pumping the weights, y'know!" She was playfully feeling herself up and down her chest and abs all the while – probably enjoying herself a _bit_ too much, especially in a public(-ish) place like this.

"I'm a human weapon," Nagase quickly objected. "Who needs to be super-fit if it's the gadgets, the blades and the specs that do the talking?"

"Spoken like someone who doesn't want any boys thinking about her."

"I wanna be thought of as a wicked little nightmare of a ninja – with how you look, they're probably doing a _lot_ more than thinking." Nagase recognized that there was a lot of contrast – between her own colorful get-up that's more for recognition than provocation, and Angel's cleavage-presenting leather jacket alongside her chaps-and-thong combo.

Angel chuckled, fully laying down flat atop the bar table with all the unsubtle sexiness of a gravure model. "Let 'em cum; to me, that's a great form of appreciation, n'ya know?"

"Now I don't know who's the freakest between us..." Nagase shoved aside the cactus beer in front of her face, and turned to her right. "So, how about you, 'Pretty in Purple'? How are _you_ gonna celebrate making it this far?"

The nicknamed subject in this case was Athena, the third of the few who were sitting around in the room. "Away from you. _Clearly_." She was seated about halfway across the bar, a way's away from anyone else, enjoying a bit of milk, and making sure the little towel tucked slightly into her skirt hid well the nether-exposing tear in her spats.

"Soooo _why_ bother being here? Where you risk bumping with scumbags like us?"

"'Cuz her friend's thirsty over here, too!" Filling the seat to the right of Athena, unsurprisingly at this point, was Malin – and she found plenty of reasons to try and start shit across the room with Nagase after their bout in the first round.

" _I mean, 'friend' is kind of a strong word to throw around..._ " thought Athena, saying nothing out loud but still briefly rolling her eyes on the surface of her expression. Mostly, she didn't want Malin starting shit, especially since she was dealing with other personal things on top of that.

Nagase was particularly baffled by her round-one frustration personified returning into her fray. "Okay, _you_ got literally burned into submission – how are you still kickin' it back like nothing awful happened to you?"

The honeybee nerd wasn't in the wrong putting an objection out like that – outside of the messy, fairly scorched attire, Malin seemed surprisingly fine by now, even though the fight was over and done with only a couple hours ago.

Malin's explanation – "You haven't had been taken care of by this tourney's staff like I was – it's some pretty good work. You probably wouldn't know that, cause you caught me on a bad point and got lucky."

Nagase darted her eyes back at the relaxed Angel, whispering what she knew. "I scanned all I could at the start of the fight – she was busy fingering herself like a minute before we started fighting."

"Was she thinking about me?" Angel whispered back, still hung up in curiosity about those who were doing 'more than thinking'.

"Shh!" Nagase shushed, before returning to her newfound rival with a retort. "Look, I'm not gonna get in _your_ face like you're in mine – I won, you lost, that's pretty much it. Even with 'disadvantages' or luck, you weren't getting anywhere past me."

Without warning, a knife was withdrew into Malin's hand as she stabbed it straight into the flat wood surface in front of her. "Nothin' stopping us from going at it again – even if that lady whips both our asses at the end of the night, I ain't going down twice!"

Athena knew letting the blonde thief come along for the post-match mingles was a bad idea – immediately, she had to start holding Malin back. "Okay, so much for hanging out here – let's just head back to our room..."

"Dammit Athena, just let this happen!" complained Malin as her Psycho Soldier friend got a grapple around her waist and started dragging her off her stool as they made for the exit. If only she held onto the knife she shoved into the table, she would've probably had something to cut herself free.

"I don't wanna have to babysit you, alright? I'm diffusing this before it even has a _chance_ to explode."

"For fuck's sake...!"

Nagase looked on, finding something kinda funny with the dynamic of the High School Girl team partners – sometimes she felt as though she had more of a well-arranged mind, though it was mostly thanks to Mephistopheles for basically rebuilding her.

"Hey, bee-babe."

"Hmm?" Nagase glanced back at Angel once again. At a future point, she would probably wish she didn't.

Angel spoke up, "Not gonna lie, I like seeing that idol chick leave, with those torn shorts. You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

Nagase retorted, "I was thinkin' those girls are probably the worst 'best friends' I've seen. If you wanna try and rip Athena's shorts open and shove a fist up her hole, that's up to you – and all a variable based on how the next round's turning out."

"Oh, I would _totally_ spread those cheeks," Angel shamelessly proclaimed, completely lacking hesitation. "Her's and her friend's – bike shorts are second to thongs in bringing the best outta butts."

Angel eventually rolled off the bar table, landing delicately onto her feet and walking past the fellow agent. "Anyways, I think I'm gonna go sniff those stools, since that's the closest I might get to actually eating some ass. You wanna join?"

"That sounds like a ridiculous idea," Nagase answered, grinding a finger against the wood to write some drawn-out scribbles here and there. "...Might as well do it anyways, we're being watched regardless..."

* * *

"Fucking Kusanagi... and that piece of shit soldier..."

Once they both eventually reclaimed their composure after the explosive first-round finale that they _both_ wound up on the wrong end of, the secretaries of darkness were on their slow collective trudge through the halls, trying to find their way back to comfort. Whatever they'd consider comfort, at least.

Muttering out vulgar thoughts, Vice was on the tougher end of the deal, having to carry the injured ( _and still VERY out cold_ ) Mature the whole way through. This was _not_ a great time for either of them, especially for the violent redhead that was at least the winning half of the psychopathic duo.

"Welcome back, girls – glad you're feeling better..."

Beauty in pink awaited the vicious duet, as Shermie leaned besides the door leading into Mature and Vice's room, patiently sitting in wait.

By this point, the French babe was firmly solidified in the 'trio of terror' as the odd one out, being the friendliest, flirtiest and overall most positive one of the bunch. Of course, this was only as she was without influence of the Orochi – that was a whole 'nother beast, and hopefully not looked into very, very soon...

Vice greeted, clearly disgruntled. "Now's not the time to be so happy right now, honey. We've had enough shit to deal with for a day..."

Shermie giggled, approaching without caution. "Can't a babe greet her fellow babes, regardless of how torn up we get?"

Vice scoffed. "You lucked out on _your_ match – we had to go through hell and still only _one_ of us managed to win. Don't act like you went through the same crap as I did."

"I'm just having fun – you should too, even with a few cuts and bruises."

"And stab wounds?"

"You sound like you hate bringing it up."

"'Cause I do!" Right afterwards, Vice winced, the lingering pain coming from that wound again returning. The stress was getting to her again, clearly... "Rrgh... why should you care? In your last life, you had your throat ripped out..."

"And I'm looking fine now, don't you think?" retorted Shermie, twirling enthusiastically. "Hell, we're _all_ sexy bitches around here~"

The rebuttal of such a statement was a pained groan – not from either of the redheads, but of Mature waking from her impromptu siesta. "Uhn, dammit..."

Vice briefly shook the draped-around arm of Mature as she lightly nudged against her. "You okay, babe?"

Drowsy and muddled with discorded injuries, Mature complained... "All this banter makes my head feel like it's wrapped in barbed wire..."

Vice assured her, "Nah – that's just Shermie trying to be the cheer-up. And failing."

Shermie crossed her arms, keeping at bay the hidden discontent. "Don't act like I wasn't helping..."

"Except you actually _weren't_. C'mon... let's just fucking lay down somewhere for once..." Vice bumped a shoulder into the door to the room to push it open and enter, the duet making a less dignified exit into their quarters than last time.

Shermie's sassy smile only wiped away a slight bit as she found herself back to an unsatisfying lonesome. She was usually the peppiest one in the room with her fellow cohorts. Sometimes she wished things were much happier for the trio, that the night would end on a more optimistic note considering at least 2 of the 3 had made it past the first round in this dazzling tournament.

Instead, things were as blunt as a door swinging open against your back when you least expect it. Just like Shermie didn't expect the same on her end, as the neighboring door, to her own room, opened and nudged against her to catch her off-guard.

"Oof!" The French babe took the bumpy door quite well, giggling away the brief pain – doubly helpful considering who she was now sharing the room with. "Careful~"

" _Désolé_..." Ash half-muffled on the other end, having leaned his slightly restless body against the door to open it. "Are they gone?"

Shermie nodded. "Yeah."

""Ah, _dieu merci_..." brought his face away from the door, shaking away some of the grogginess he felt having to endure the bit of Hakkesshu in-fighting on the other side. "I think I share Mature' pain – for a whole _different_ reason."

"Don't get too wrapped up in it." Shermie twirled around to the other side of the door to meet up with her red-clad companion. "It's kinda their thing, being crazy devoted. 'Orochi's will' and all that."

"I can't imagine being aligned with people so wild. Hell, I can't even imagine being as wild as someone like _Yagami_." As far as he knew, Ash would be sacrificing a piece of his sanity for a new splash of paint for his flames (of which he didn't need Orochi in his past). After the business with his ancestor, he would not want anything dark inside him again.

"Well, if you're like Aoi, you'd spend a lot of time without having to deal with those... 'urges'." Shermie leaned her body deeper against Ash's, and from there, she cooed in intrigue. "Oooh... speaking of urges..."

In regards to what was poking against the front of Shermie's skirt, Ash's welcoming grin made it clear of how little indignity he felt. "Well, a guy like me, alone in that room thinking of someone like you... it's only natural.

Shermie giggled again. "Ash Crimson, you are so shameless."

"Well – that's one way to put it..." Ash wrapped an arm around the back of Shermie as they held each other closer... and closer...

" _Attention~!_ " But the moment was cut short by the resounding alert across the building – the authorital but alluring voice of the tournament's second-hand arranger Chizuru sounded off with the following announcement:

" _All participants in the building, will report to the foyer within ten minutes, for info regarding our next round. Please follow through in an orderly fashion, and thank you for your participation._ "

Shermie honestly almost forgot about the tournament for a little bit as she was lost in her effeminate fling's eyes. "Guess the night's not over yet..."

"Unfortunately." Ash realized fairly quickly it was gonna be a little while longer before he... _got down to business_ with his fellow French hotness, and he looked a little disappointed. Thankfully, the smile of his lover kept him above surface level with his thoughts.

"If you want, you can just stay here; I won't be long, hopefully," Shermie assured.

"I'll try not to make a mess," Ash joked.

"Maybe that'd make it better..." Shermie leaned in and gave Ash a little pecking kiss on the lips, feeling up his jaw as she backed away and left the scene.

After again appreciating the view of Shermie's curves upon her exit, Ash closed the door, and as it was shut, he leaned against it. His eyes lowered on himself at first, at his clear excitement bulging beneath his pants, and then up to the ceiling, almost prepared to thank God.

Love was in the air, and he was right there to breathe it in and appreciate it.

* * *

 *** – The 'cactus beers' are sort of a nod to what is apparently a favorite food of Angel, which is 'raw cactus slices'.**

 **Also the initial plan for this post-round stuff was to post this and the next chapter in a single go, as a double post; by the time I write this, the next chapter is actually mostly done and might either come out later in the day or within the next couple, so look forward to that. Speaking of...**

 **Next Chapter: Heading into the second round, Elisabeth lays down the law with some changes to the rules...**


	26. POST-ROUND: Not A Way To End A Night

"I'm hoping for the best with what comes next – maybe you should too, Elisabeth."

"Might as well – it can only ramp up from here, I suppose..."

Elisabeth and Chizuru stood at the side of the central staircase, conversing privately as the ladies of the tournament, regardless of having advanced or not, slowly piled in for the meeting, mostly in groups.

Athena and Malin were among the first few, followed shortly by Nagase and Angel. Lien cruised alone, as usual, to the foyer, while a quartet of 'Women's Fighters' in Mai, Yuri, King and a limping Alice came in together. Shermie bounced about with flair, while Vice was quite the opposite, dragging her own disgruntled, battered mess of a body to the meeting, with a staggering lack of Mature at the moment.

Overall, the cast that came before the ladies in charge wasn't any less colorful than it was in the first meeting – outside of the afformentioned Mature ( _due to her reasonable injuries_ ), it was essentially the whole participant list, with everyone advancing to the second round at attention.

Once the crowd of ladies faded to a respectful silence, Elisabeth began...

"Welcome again, everyone. Firstly, I'd like to congratulate the sixteen of you who have made it past our first round – some of you, I expected nothing less, but I am equally impressed with the few who surprised us all. Don't think it's the worst of your troubles, however – it's going to be no less of a climb than in tournaments you've been in before. The number of participants will continue to fall in halves and the strongest will be culled from what's left, that's just how it goes."

Chizuru followed up, "Elisabeth and I have discussed in private over the past hour our plans for the following round – now that we have a good idea of how everyone handles this private scene, this _isolation_ within a single building for the tournament, we can safely say it's not going to be the same as it was before."

Returning to Elisabeth. "Speaking of this isolation – the appointed 'combat zones' we started you with were a test to see the extent of one's skill confined within a single hallway, room, or otherwise. After further consideration following the bouts earlier today, there wasn't quite a difference from otherwise. For the second round onwards, we'll be toying with more lenient renditions of these zones, giving significantly more to potentially work with – after all, part of the fight is the ability to adapt to an environment that is not always the same."

Back to Chizuru. "Another aspect we'd like to touch on, the arrangement of the fights – we formed part of the initial brackets off of skill-sets, backgrounds and potential animosity. This won't be too different from then, but we've been recently welcome to requests for the coming battles."

"Yes," Elisabeth nodded. "For example... ?"

Seated just besides the 'Women's Fighters Team' quartet, Mignon's eyes sprung up at attention like the curious kitten she tended to act like sometimes.

Elisabeth said to the young witch, "We'd like to inform you: someone has personally requested to face you in the second round. We're not naming names – but it seems you _do_ have at least one willing challenger looking to test you..."

Mignon's eyes wandered elsewhere in brief thought, before evolving into an expression of personal hope as she melted slightly into her seat. Focus will return to her eventually, but there were still more important matters at the moment...

"Anyways, onto another matter," Elisabeth continued. "With how we incorporated the 'no interference' policy with these matches, it's thankful we have yet to actually see that rule fully broken. However, it wasn't without some leaning against it, especially from _some certain individuals_."

Again, she wasn't naming names – however, the hostess's eyes very clearly lingered towards the direction of where people like Vice and Leona were at, in that very moment.

"While we have had some characters here involve themselves in the combat zones in a spectator's sort of way, it wasn't exactly what we wanted with the bouts." Elisabeth then announced, "With some debate over it, it figured it was for the best that we act upon it further before anything drastic comes out of it – for the fights beyond, we must insist that whenever one comes up, anyone who isn't participating in the specific fight at that time shall not be allowed within the combat zone until the fight has concluded. No exceptions whatsoever." She then explained lastly, "These rule modifications are, for the most part, why this brief meeting was arranged. The second round will continue tomorrow afternoon, so you all have the rest of the evening and the morning after, up until your number comes up, to prepare for what comes next."

From there, Chizuru chimed in with the optimistic closing words, "With that being said, we wish you all a good night, and good luck." Respectfully bowing towards the competitors, the priestess followed Elisabeth up the stairs as they both exited from the scene.

The competing group on the other side took their time to disperse from the room, as a significant handful found some moments to chat amongst each other. It was a rarity throughout the tournament to have everyone here, might as well get a bit of chatting up with friends and relative strangers.

Unsurprisingly, Vice was not one of those people – she was tired, annoyed and all sorts of fucked up physically ( _on top of her being generally fucked up in the mental sense_ ).

"This accomplished nothing but wasted time," she sighed. "I don't know about you, but I'm back off to bed to tend these damn scars." Vice's exit wasn't graced with much acknowledgment – even only gave her a silent wave goodbye, though she was looking to relax elsewhere in a minute.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the bunch, Athena stretched about briefly, also looked ready to bow out. "I think I'm gonna clock out for tonight – now that I know I don't have anything left to worry about. You coming, Malin?"

Not responding directly, the blonde rascal looked on at the Psycho Soldier's exit. Probably still a little iffy about the whole confrontation with Nagase some moments ago. "Ehh, gimme a second." Right after, before considering getting up, something crossed Malin's ears from a brief distance, the sound of a chair bouncing on its wooden legs with no subtlety in the noise.

It was the over-optimism, of course, of an excited Mignon, straddling around the back of her chair and staring right at Malin with the goofiest closed-mouth smile imaginable. "So... how are you feeling about Mignon's chances?"

Malin blinked. "About what?"

Mignon giggled. "You heard what they said, about a 'willing challenger' – about a _certain_ someone challenging yours truly?"

By this point, Malin started to recall what she saw between the witch and the Psycho Soldier... "Uhh, you're just trying to joke around, right? 'Cause if you think you're going to face your 'so-called rival', you might want to check first—"

" _Shhhhh don't ruin the dream_ ~" Mignon shushed with a finger to Malin's lips. "Do you know how long it's taken to get to this moment?"

"Not long enough?" suggested Malin, disgruntedly.

" _No_ – this is Mignon's chance to finally get off the ground with her magical charm and cunning! This was always what was meant to be! Oooo, can't wait to see the look on her face!" The cute witch's feet kicked around underneath the chair as her personal anticipation skyrocketed – under information that she barely learned about.

" _I wouldn't mind you looking..._ "

Mignon's posture on the chair immediately froze up – the voice she heard behind her back was not of Athena's, but of what was basically the worst-case scenario for her. She saw the gloved hands out of the corners of her eyes, handling her shoulders as if it would be there one moment and around her neck the next – she heard the silky-smooth voice that would lead any ordinary to an untimely death – and once it clicked, she didn't _need_ to turn around...

…to understand Lien Neville's presence looming over hers, with a smirk of anticipation upon her face – not simply for the prospect of facing the witch, but for potentially something further. "A fair warning: don't look too deep or you'll go blind – and not by your _own_ hands."

Mignon's own smile was gone, as was a bit of color on her body as she went a bit pale from fear. Even the light in the orbs on her wrist-guards and boots flickered out as though a fuse was blown.

"Good luck, Mignon." Leaning in, Lien gave a fitting and metaphorical 'kiss of death' atop Mignon's pink-maned head. " _You're going to need it._ " She drifted off as quietly as she emerged, no need to further fuck up that shrill girl's mind...

Malin looked on at all of this in silence, but even without any input, she was a little shook. It was only when was finally out of earshot that Malin started to comment. " _Shit._ Well, congrats, girl – how does it feel to have the worst luck imaginable?"

Mignon said nothing in return. She _had_ nothing in return, to properly sum up how she felt right then and there. Her dream was dead, and if things took a turn for the worst, she probably would be, too. The only piece of movement that remained for her was her body falling in a fainting spell, taking the chair down with her as she unconsciously flopped to the floor.

Malin gandered down at the poor witch's unconscious being for an awkwardly long moment before she started to get up from her seat, sneaking off and upstairs.

Off to the side in witness to the scene, a couple of the other second-rounders in Nagase ( _no sign to whether she and Angel actually sniffed those bar stools_ ) and Love Heart ( _with a noticeable absence of Nakoruru, likely still tending to healing wounds and/or nature_ ) took notice to the witch girl on the ground, paralyzed in fright.

"You think that kid's gonna be alright?" asked Love.

"Against Lien?" Nagase replied. "She's _fucked_."

* * *

The day could've been better for Aoi – with a hard-fought battle that thankfully wasn't any more than a respectful spar and that incident with the Hakkesshu, having to save Leona's butt, she put herself through a lot of ups and downs with her first day in this whole tournament gig.

After some minutes spent conversing a bit with the more friendly end of the competition, including former opponent Hotaru, the Kusanagi relative was ready to crash down already and wait for a new day.

…

By now, Aoi couldn't wait to pry off that tight suit and spray the sweat off her body with a hot shower – the zipper down the front was almost completely undone as she had the suit loosened, allowing a little bit more skin to get a feel of the cooler breeze of the coming night, as she made her way to the nearest bathroom from the foyer.

Unluckily for her, that bathroom happened to be occupied already – and she could hear the shower running. Shit.

With the sweatiness of her body beneath her clothing growing to bothersome enough levels, Aoi decided 'Fuck it', and knocked.

" _Who is it~_?"

The voice on the inside end was easily recognizable from the sultry bubbliness as Shermie – would've figured, this bathroom was conveniently right next where she had situated herself for the time here.

"It's Aoi," the biker girl answered. "I hope you don't mind me waiting out here, I'm gonna need that shower when you're done." There was no answer from the Orochi babe for a moment afterwards, and she had to standby for _something_ to occur.

Then the lock on the door turned, and it opened – a wet arm beckoned out from the opening. "Come right in – I won't mind," rung out Shermie, a finger curving in to subtly welcome her 'friend'.

The invitation rung out immediately as a risky move to Aoi – her face contorted into an expression of uncertainty and reluctance, even as she briefly heard the footsteps within the room re-enter the tub and pull the curtains mostly closed. It was just... an odd situation not just on the sake of having to share some minutes of naked cleansing alongside another, but to do so with someone so very far on the wrong side of the tracks despite their outgoing nature.

With each second that passed in her thoughts, Aoi's tracksuit clung on a few threads more as the sweat stuck around and began to dry in spots. She continued to pull and stretch the loose fabric with growing discontent.

"Ugh, the things I do to get stuff done..." Ultimately, she started to peel off the suit off from the top, showing off her body in its near-nudeness outside of the bra, right before scattering through the open door.

Door closed shut, clicked in to lock, Aoi had no reservation to back down from the offer now, and from then she pulled off the rest of her suit from the waist down, her gloves and boots, and her undergarments, setting it all down in a firm stack on the sink as opposed to the closed lid of the toilet in which Shermie's pink and purple attire sat

Aoi made sure to justify in the midst of her stripping,"You know, I'm only letting this happen because I'm not sleeping all moist and sticky,"

"Same," replied Shermie, from the other side of the curtains. "That's what happens when you wrestle around the competition like I do. Just means you got the job done. It's _all_ worth it, babe."

Aoi tried her damnedest not to blush in awkwardness as she prepared to step in. "Please... just, don't call me that, during _this_."

Her left leg lingered in first, trying not to get too hasty in her entry into the shower. The rest of her now-naked body followed, as she

"Gotcha~!" Shermie's arms immediately clung into a hug around the Kusanagi rebel's body, in the most shameless of ways.

"Ah~! Jesus fu—!" Aoi's heart leapt out of rhythm as she yelped. Instinctively, she started struggling in the grasp of the bombshell's clutches, even though it was only meant in good fun. She was quickly let go, thankfully, as Shermie loosened the lock and giggled

"Did I scare ya?"

"You kinda did," Aoi responded, feeling at her back where Shermie's bust pushed against it, presumably the work of the pair of hard nipples poking against her in the tight grip. Eventually, as she gradually turned around, she wound up giving herself a good look at the French beauty's body, going down from the thick thighs straight up to the tits that proved little competition in its size.

"You like what you see?" did a few supermodel poses, suggesting to the Kusanagi girl to admire all she had.

Aoi was super hesitant in her response, and the red blush across her face was out of control from there. "I, uh... wasn't expecting to see it when I first considered this. I can kinda see why you were so popular..."

"You're not so bad yourself," Shermie replied in kind, taking a surprisingly good gander, beneath the wet bangs, at Aoi's body in return – not quite as thick or curvy, but for sure made up in athletic tone and shape with the almost-prominent abs showing off.

"Anyways, you might wanna step aside a little bit," Aoi suggested, noticing how much of the water coming down was being blocked off by her shower partner's body. "We both gotta spray the sweat away..."

Shermie stepped aside with nothing but a smile, and the faucet came down on Aoi's body with a little bit more prominence as she took a couple steps forward...

...but as she went ahead, she was greeted further by the immoral girl's touch with a straight up slap across her ass.

"Fuckin'~!" Aoi grunted, immediately tending to the swatting slap's radius with a little bit of rubdown as she looked back at the giggly, regretless Shermie, who was on her way to the body wash sitting on the opposite side of the shower.

"It's like you're _trying_ to come on to me or something," Aoi said, by now growing kinda annoyed in general at Shermie's presence around her.

Shermie said back, "I'm open to whatever – guys and girls have wanted me for a while; us Hakkesshu girls don't really care for society all that much, but when it comes to people chasing my tail, I am _all_ for it."

Feeling about at the water pouring down on her, Aoi spoke up in response. "So what you're getting at is... ...you're just 'down to fuck', something like that?"

Shermie shrugged, spreading the gel in hand around her body. "Well... when you've been dead for a while, you tend to think about certain things... like 'Wow, getting your throat torn open hurts like hell!'" She felt about at her neck during this thought, perhaps for a little too long as she almost forgot what came next. "Oh, _and_ sometimes I think 'I wanna get a dick in me somehow'. Some sort of 'glad to be back' thing, y'know?"

"I can safely say we're thinking on two different wavelengths," said Aoi. "Then again, _I've_ never died."

"All I can say on that is, I would not recommend it," Shermie said. "Even on 'Gaia's will', it's a whole another fastball of hell being in the afterlife."

Aoi didn't have much to say on that, as she would rather not have any similar experience, bond be damned. Her glare eventually got low on the back-end of Shermie's body... "Please tell me you chose to get that put _there_."

"Hmm?" Shermie took a moment before she turned her head and realized what Aoi was referring to – the 'tramp stamp'-esque tattoo sitting right above where the lining of her butt began, representing a snake emblazoned with sparks of lightning. "Oh~... well... I actually didn't, but Orochi does have good in designing. Kinda wouldn't recommend feeling on it too much, it's a little sensitive."

"I wasn't going to," denied Aoi. "Knowing the type of shit you can do, it'd probably be the same outcome as bringing in a hairdryer."

Shermie chuckled, feeling up and down her own thighs. "Oh you~... you never suck at making me smile."

Aoi said, "I barely even try. Maybe you're just easily entertained... Oof~!"

She was suddenly pushed back afterwards, as Shermie backed into her ass-first. "'xcuse, gotta wash up~!"

Aoi wound up backed into the wall by the admittedly excellent derrière of Shermie, brought beneath the shower faucet and, in turn, out of the range of the spray. Yes, it was far from the most comfortable shower she's ever taken, and she rarely shared it with someone else to begin with, so there was clearly no competition in the circuit of uncomfortableness.

It was only going to get worse from there, as Aoi grimaced from a sensation prodding right against her as she leaned her rear against the wall. "Agh, I think I got something poking against my butt..."

"Probably the shampoo?" asked Shermie.

As Aoi wiggled around briefly to try and figure things out, she spoke up again. "A shampoo bottle that's... moist? ...and _warm_?" She leapt forward and away as soon as she felt something try to directly enter her butt, nearly toppling Shermie over in her reaction.

"What the fuck...?" Aoi felt up herself from her butthole and the crack up, and saw a bit of whiteness on her fingers as she looked at her hand... then she turned around and saw just what was trying to get into her...

...as a pulsating cock, in the midst of oozing sizable loads of cum over the edge of the tub, limped out at an incomplete erection from a hole through the wall that both ladies in the shower somehow didn't notice up to this point.

"Oh, what the _fuck_!?" Aoi was caught with disgust and surprise over what she was looking at – having expected this to be a ladies-only sort of situation, this was probably the _last_ thing she was expecting. Thankfully, the shower was still running with the hot water so she could quickly get the tidbits of cum off her hand and off her backside.

Shermie, however, couldn't help but laugh, looking as though she found nothing but a goofy situation in front of her. "Oh wow~!"

" _Ah merde..._ " The cock retracted from the glory hole that now cannot be ignored, admist the barely-audible voice on the other end of the wall. " _Sorry if I surprised you, Shermie – couldn't help but try and dive in..._ "

Shermie again giggled. "Afraid that wasn't _my_ ass you tried to get into, Ash..."

To Aoi, that name almost sounded familiar, but she felt as though she needed clarification. "Wait, 'Ash'? As in... that fruity French guy?"

Shermie nodded, walking past Aoi to meet with the low-riding hole in the shower wall. "Yes, I'm sure your cousin knows a thing or two about him with when they fought – not quite the best of friends, from what he's told me, and with Yagami, it's much worse. One of Elisabeth's regrettable friends, in short."

Shermie then began to bring a finger or two into the hole, trying to reach out for her lover's increasingly flaccid penis through it. "We just happened to be in the same place at the same time – and then as something started to kick in between our hearts, we _may_ have been starting to experiment a bit around here with..." She managed to bring Ash's sex back through the hole, but as he was softening up slightly, less of his length came through, sitting there like a limp noodle. "...Well, you probably get the idea."

It took about five seconds before Aoi promptly made her way back through the curtains – and Shermie immediately clamped her hands around one of Kusanagi's wrists to halt her departure. "Whoa, where are _you_ going?"

Aoi reached for a towel to try and dry herself off. "I think I've had enough crazy shit for today. I'm drying myself off and jumping into bed as soon as I can."

Shermie tried to reason optimistically with the other. "We can still make this group shower work, penis or no penis~"

Aoi glared back, the frustration in her eyes clear. "Just get the fuck off me, alright?"

With reluctance, Shermie eventually unhanded the brunette, looking a little disappointed. "Aww... You don't know what you're missing, Kusanagi."

"I don't _want_ to know." Wrapped in the towel and with clothes in her arms, Aoi shut the door with a rough and resounding thud.

The sound was nothing but the shower faucet spraying down onto Shermie's naked body, as she looked as though she didn't know what to do now. Things got _way_ too forward, rather quickly, for sure.

" _So, um..._ " Ash was heard clearing his throat on the other side, his cock's saddened twitch oddly matching with the pattern of the cough. " _...is now a bad time?_ "

Shermie hummed in thought. "Yeah... probably..."

One would definitely admit it was too awkward of a moment to dig deep into the 'sexperimentation' tunnel just yet. Elsewhere, however...

* * *

Elisabeth's hand laid consistently over her forehead and eyes in utter repulse for the past few minutes. Back in her main office, the camera to that specific shower brought her more things she'd rather not witness – it wasn't exactly her idea to incorporate them, as the family 'needed' to be extra secure in days far gone, and now it was just worse on her sanity

"Kagura, please... just... turn the cameras off for now."

In one press of the button, Chizuru had the screens in the back of the room turn off into blank blackness. Having glanced maybe one too many times at the situation going on over there, she had an idea or two of how Betty must've been feeling. "Too much on the mind right now?"

Elisabeth looked tired by this point – not necessary felt it, as she could go entire days without the feeling, but she just _looked_ as such, especially right now. "You don't know the half of it."

She was glad the night was winding down – after such an eventful first day of the tournament, the only thing that wasn't for sure was how the next day was going to turn out, inside _or_ outside of the combat to come...

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** **The morning of the tournament's second day comes, and even before the second round commence, there's surprises to witness!**


	27. PRE-ROUND 2: Not A Way To Start A Day

The night sealing off the first day of the tournament went off with no prominent moments having gone down – almost everyone in the building focused on catching Z's as their main priority, and many just wanted to sign off the night before things escalated for them like they did for others.

From the start of the morning, things started to pick back up even before the second round officially began...

* * *

...And of course, in a tournament full of hot commodities ( _in more ways than one_ ), these things tend to start with a hot shower, which was where the sky captain away from home, Love Heart, began her morning.

The 'Airstream' adversary didn't have that much of an eventful first-round showing, but she was more than willing to refresh herself physically, knowing there was, for certain, a stronger opponent waiting in the wings heading into the second round of this intriguing tournament. With her partner Nakoruru out of the running, Love remained a unique competitor and an even more interesting potential winner if she reached the top of that mountain.

As for now, she had time to herself.

Hands against the faucet-fastened wall, water spraying down onto her purple hair and dripping down her naked form, Love was at the peak of relaxation right now. There was something about it, the synergy of the water washing down over her, catching up to each and every section of her body, from the obvious curves and bends of her limbs, to those... _very_ sensitive openings down lower on her.

The sky captain was withstanding quite well the urges to... have a bit of 'self-loving', wordplay unintended – her hands kept to her upper-body rubbing down the wetness of the splashing water over her naked body. In the prelude to the return of insanity within the tournament, it was great to have time to herself.

All of a sudden, though...

"Hey there, Love~!"

"Aah!" Love was sprung out of her focus, and almost face-first against a wall, before turning her head towards who was behind her...

…and was met with her former first-round opponent in B. Jenet. With a mischievous smile glinting in the light blazing beyond the openings of the freshly open-then-closed curtains, the similarly nude blonde had her eyes firmly locked onto Love's.

Almost immediately, Love took into consideration the locked door. Or what was _supposed_ to be locked. She quickly interrogated the opposing pirate babe, "H-how did you get in here?"

"Darling, don't you mind that," Jenet said reassuringly. "I just wanted to catch up – take a minute to congratulate you for getting the better of me."

"And you chose to do that _now_? Risking invasion of privacy?"

"Well, after a night of beer-binging to cool off," Jenet justified, while her brief attempt to approach backed off by a pressing foot of Love pressing against her gut. "Got so drunk I started thinking about _you_ , of all things."

"Just explain yourself or you might get _more_ than your clothing cut this time." Love was about ready to grab her golden sword from the other side of the curtains and _go ham_.

"Just give me this once, Love – we're both sexy bitches, aren't we?"

Love Heart came to notice that Jenet's hands, as she was speaking, countered against the defending leg with some smooth rubbing upwards.

Uncomfortability levels began their rise from here, as Love blushed. "I think I need clarity."

Jenet had a laugh about it. "It's like you don't know how I roll – here, lemme help ya..."

Jenet lunged in suddenly, and the two pirates wound up pinned against the wall, lips colliding in a single, one-sided moment that saw Love Heart almost immediately break free from the lip-lock.

"Mmngh, what the hell!?" Love shouted, visibly rattled in all sorts of ways.

Jenet fondled Love's jaw briefly. "Oh shut up, babe; you're gonna love it..." She then lowered herself against the sky-familiar's ripe body, her face smooshing against the other's breasts.

Love put up her best efforts in her defense, trying to latch onto the rough blonde's body to halt all of this. Unfortunately for the usually pink-clad sky pirate, the soaked nature of everything left the grasps to simple brief attempts that Jenet slipped out of with absolute ease as she nuzzled herself against her fellow pirate's stomach, her nose prodding the navel.

Love's next reaching attempt was towards the opening of the curtains for her sword, as the thoughts of beating some proper sense into the 'pirate queen' turned more into something she wanted to make a reality.

 _Just far too out of reach, however._ Her hand only managed to poke out to the other side at wrist's length, with the gold sword sitting right alongside the sink where she set her clothing, just on the further-off side of the toilet.

By this point, Jenet had lowered herself deep enough to find those tasteful hills.

"Aah~!"

Love's whole body contracted in a full ripple across once she felt a tongue fiddle against her crotch. Her hands grappled firmly against the sides of the shower wall she had pressed herself against, and her moans rendered beautifully upon everyone's ears, but of _unwanted_ pleasure.

Jenet's head wriggled deeper against her barely-willing sex partner's mounds, to the point that her nose got a good whiff of the fruity smell of shaved pussy – eventually, her tongue found the parting slit of Love's groin and made its way through to get a good taste of the inside walls.

Love was sincerely hoping the moment would come and go as quickly as possible – but once she felt herself being licked into submission, she could feel time pass by much slower than she'd really want it to, and it was becoming impatiently tough to endure.

Even more so once she felt something fondle against a lower end of her regions. There was no mistaking _that_ sensation – in the midst of the cunnilingus, Love found herself simultaneously being giving a bit of anal inspection with one of Jenet's thumbs firmly going up her butt with gusto. The feeling of a roughly-curved nail burrowing further into her other hole was a cherry on top of the _deeply_ unnecessary dessert that she became.

Within seconds past that moment, a breaking point was definitively achieved.

With a melody of sensual screams, Love's body once again felt a full rippling sensation, much more violent and ( _wordplay be damned_ ) climactic as her orgasm ruptured outwards in the most physical way possible.

 _ **Splat!**_

"Ohh! Fuckin' hell!" Jenet whipped herself backwards from between Love's legs in a puzzled reaction, as she felt herself taking a splash of something on the face. Clearly, it wasn't the shower as the faucet was pushed a little bit upwards, allowing the water to flow past where she kneeled. Her second and significantly more vulgar though, given Love's unwillingness about this whole session, was that she straight up pissed in her eyes in a matter of self-defense by any means necessary.

Thankfully for her, that _also_ wasn't the case; she looked up at in the moment after, watching as Love convulsed downwards in her enforced orgasm, spurting like a broken hose onto the floor of the tub.

As two and two came together and kicked in within her head, the depraved B. Jenet erupted into an impressed giggle. "Ohhh-hohoho, Lady Love, I didn't take you as a squirter~"

Love stared into the ceiling with a look of catatonic surprise across her face. After a crawling period of silence beneath her gasps for air, she eventually spoke up. "...That was completely uncalled for..."

Jenet put a finger across her own chin in brief though. "Yeah, maybe you're right... but it kept you distracted, didn't it?"

"Huh? What do you mean—"

"I'll let 'cha see for yourself – bye-bye, luvs'!" Almost as quickly as she entered, Jenet scampered off in an almost-hurried manner, still nude and wet as she left the still-running shower back to Love's lonesome.

It took the sky captain long enough to consider looking past the curtains for answers. Once she parted them open, she realized something different about the scenery of the bathroom. Namely:

The lack of clothes on the sink.

The similar absence of her sword.

The door that was freshly closed shut.

And the piece of paper taped onto that door that read ' **Now we're even, ya wannabe stripper!** '

Love Heart was ready to beat an English bitch into submission... once she found a towel to cover herself with, of course.

* * *

When she was last conscious, she was rightfully crippled with fear over the future of her participation in that wild tournament.

When she finally drifted back, having unintentionally spent a couple extra hours worth of sleep since that moment, Mignon woke up feeling completely refreshed. She felt as though her worries made a crawl back into the intentionally-neglected crevice of her mind, and she opened her eyes to see the bunk above her. All in all, she felt like a princess in relief, out of the hands of those who wanted to harm her.

Although... she did recognize that something just felt off around her surroundings. As though the pillow she was laying her head onto wasn't a pillow... and that whatever it was, if seemed to be brushing slowly through her hair. Not like a creepy spider, more like... a hand...?

She looked to her right, past the bunk above and was met with pink eyes looking down, the only semblance of vibrant color on the pale girl it belonged to.

"Hmm. You're finally awake," said the girl. "We have much to discuss."

Mignon's first response was to fling her head forward and headbutt the girl in black across the nose – and then she gouged on her with a hand clawing out at her face, hissing aggressively. "No! Nonononono _no_!"

Mignon shoved the intruding force back, letting free that girl's annoyed scowl, and she grabbed for the closest object near her, which was a little flower pot at the window, and threw it. It soared briefly through the air, but failed to miss the black-clad girl as she teleported away, and the plant smashed onto the bed on the other side.

"Oww!" Feeling the pot crash right upside her head, Athena sprung up from that bed, hair slightly messy as she rubbed where she was smashed – it took her a few seconds to find her sights meeting Mignon's, and they were both left confused.

Athena's voice implied how sick of this stuff with the witch she was getting. "Mignon – what are you doing in Malin's bed?"

Mignon blinked a few times too many. "...What?" She had a feeling the bedroom she was in seemed quite _off_ from what she had; she even recognized another pair of legs grazing alongside her when she woke up, and she barely paid mind to it compared to other things. On the other side of the bed she was sitting on, she saw Malin lift herself up, kind of bothered from the get go, and the blonde reacted as you'd expect.

"That's it. I'm getting the claw."

To say that 'Mignon escaped quickly' was saying too little. Scared by the prospect of getting clawed _viciously_ by Malin, Mignon scampered in a massive panic off the bed, nearly face-planting herself against the floor, before hopping up on the window, and jumping out of it as kitten-like as she could – except for her not even bothering to open that window, she managed to jump _through_ it and smash it into shards as she jumped out, and her landing was about as graceless as you'd expect from the resulting mess; she stumbled and plopped herself against the grass after an imbalanced connection. Thankfully for her, she received no significant cuts from the glass breaking around, but she did come out of it with a headache and a rattled jaw.

Not quite a good way to wake up – _not at all_.

" _Splendid, sister_ – you've been away for two minutes and you've already made a fool of yourself..."

The girl in black didn't go away fully, as she walked up to Mignon, looking even more disappointed than before.

The pinkette glanced up, feeling defeated after that little crash-and-burn. "...What do you want from me, Ninon?"

The black-clad girl, now recognized as Ninon, responded. "The moment you stepped out into the fray on your own, was the moment where you should've realized you needed help."

Mignon struggled to blink. "...Wha...?"

Ninon turned her head away. "Hmph. I'll explain later. You deal with your own wounds – physical _and_ mental." She again faded out of the scene, leaving her sister on the grasp of something she didn't understand.

Now it was back to Mignon by herself, in the grass and glass around her, and the thought of her upcoming match again set itself in alongside worse feelings.

It was down to her, and a lone butterfly that hovered down to the grass nearby, with a bright enough blue to catch her sight. "At least Mignon has this..."

She wanted to have those good vibes, especially heading into something that would prove the absolute opposite.

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** Because I tend to want to avoid overloading chapters with too much in one post, there's going to be a bit more morning antics – but we also find out the very first match of the second round, so there's something more to look forward to than just more potential for gratuitous fluff.


	28. PRE-ROUND 2: Tension and Relief

Some people start their day getting a potted plant thrown at their head, while others wake up scared shitless by their creepy sister and escape harm ( _with a hard stumble_ ) out a window. In the slim middle, some tend to get utterly ravaged in the shower and lose their clothes in the process.

Most would want none of the above to start their day, and prefer to just spend time hitting the bag.

It was most akin to the latter for Yuri; first thing in the morning, she put on her get-up for the battle to come and jumped the gun on an early workout in one of the few suitable workout rooms around the premises, getting her fists, legs and any other capable limbs prepared to give out offense.

The bag barely held itself together against the blunt strikes thanks to its rusty chain – it showed age, but still suited well for Yuri's pull-less strikes.

Thrust kick, straight right...

Middle kicks, curving jabs...

One-two punch, 'Hundred Handslaps'...

A couple combos later, she stopped for a time, though, as she spent a moment to charge herself up with some brisk squats of optimism, sharply taking in and breathing out some air on each up-and-down.

Left no choice but to see over her friends after losing her chance in the running, King stood by as the sole spectator to her often-partner's training session; she saw a little bit too much going the karate girl's way when it came to the overwhelming energy. "Might wanna slow down a little there, Yuri – you might pull something before you come out the gate."

Tiny slivers of sweat dripped out of hiding from beneath Yuri's headband as she stared straight ahead.

"I think I'm really feeling it today!"

With a running leap, she put in one more big blow for the punching bag to tank – and knowing her, she preferred her 'rear bumper' in times like this.

Providing a better impact on this target than the rippling shockwave of her last attempt, Yuri's ass brought upon the punching bag its toughest move to tank, with a more significant pushback; it did enough to slightly crack the chain off from its hinges, but it hadn't given up its strength to the competition's recent collective efforts.

It was downright shocking that the force didn't have Yuri bouncing right in the other direction; rather, she landed right on her combative butt, narrowing avoiding the punching bag as it swung back around over her...

...and landed in the catching hands of King in the back-end of its pendulous swing.

"All this time throwing your ass at the world, not _once_ that you've broken your tailbone..."

Yuri took a hand of the bartender to help herself up. "They call me the 'Wild Swallow' for a reason, King."

King unhanded the punching bag and it continued swinging about at a narrower range. "Don't think that nickname really connects to a 'strong tail' – no lie, you've got one of the better-honed styles of the bunch, but—"

 _ **Clank!**_ The sound of something breaking apart bounced out from the background, and an unhinged punching bag flew right in between the two fighting babes – with the force and speed it swooshed past, it smacked into the other bag in between King and Yuri, and broke it off its own hinges, as a duo of bags smashed into the wall off east and exploded into a mess of leather and stuffing.

As she and Yuri brushed away the lingering dust from the smashed-together bags, King stared off into the west towards the origin of the increasing destruction.

"...But these other girls are _something else_."

Who better to strike such surprise in long-time competitors than the misleadingly-strong Angel, who was flaunting off her sweaty body in some satisfactory stretches before she spotted the duo and approached them in a charismatic strut.

"So, what'cha think, girls?" Angel threw her arms over and behind her back, flexing off her enhanced body to her peers. "You up to handle a bit of this in the next round?"

King's face curved into a frustrated expression muted by a palm covering it. "My god – each and every time you come around, you're annoying from the very first word." There was no shit to take from Angel in regards to her having taken down a former partner of the bar owner in the first round.

Angel purred negatively. "You just sound like you're trying all you can to be so bitchy around me."

"Look who's talking," sighed Yuri.

Angel gave no fucks. "As if I'm listening to anyone _but_ myself. Just keep that ass under wraps for me to tear it apart – something you oughta remember after yesterday."

From there, Angel didn't regard consent in her next action, as she wound an open hand up and didn't just simply slap Yuri on the butt – she grabbed a full handful of the karate-girl's legging-enveloped left cheek and _squeezed_ in the brief moment it sat there.

Yuri's face was overwhelmed in shock and disgust as she slapped the hand away. "What!?"

"Later, _puta!_ " With a middle-finger salute back to her future opponent, Angel strutted out of the makeshift gym-room in style.

Silence dropped onto the 'Women Fighters' as they both realized the implication the reckless grappler gave, regarding _that_ repressed butt-based moment from the other day, and they both kept their thoughts too close together.

The silence broke once Yuri turned her attention back to her friend, looking a little suspicious of blabbers going about. "King... you didn't tell anybody about what happened yesterday, did you?"

King responded. "Yuri, you'd know me enough to understand I'm pretty damn good at holding private matters inside."

" _I guess I'm not._ " Yuri and King turned towards one of the doors leading in...

Alice stood at a now-open door, still dealing with her crutches and coping with her not-very-healed injury, on top of having to admit to her being the guilty party in this matter. "Sorry."

King understood the naivety of the fangirl rookie, but it didn't stop her from being disappointed. "Alice, for fuck's sake..."

After an almost-eternity of overheating guilt on her mind and over her embarrassed blushing face, Alice stumbled over her chosen words as if she stumbled down stairs. "I-It wasn't like I wanted to tell people! That Angel chick threatened to break my other ankle if she didn't get some 'dirt to throw'! What was I supposed to do, let her _do it?!_ "

Yuri felt prepared to say 'yes' to that regard, but King halted her, hand over mouth, before the first syllable came out.

She said, "Yuri... remember she's still kind of a newbie."

Alice came close to losing balance on her crutch and faceplanting with how unnerved she felt at the moment. For a 'newbie', that would be an unsurprising feat.

* * *

Unexpected 'intruder' aside, Athena went through the morning with some important things on her mind – primarily, the consideration that she really could've fiddled with the idea of bringing an extra outfit with her to the tournament, as her main outfit, used during the first round, was the only proper one she had on hand.

Outside of that, the Psycho Soldier wasn't going to go into the next fight in her sleepwear, with her plain shirt and obvious lack of pants. It wasn't left completely unconsidered, as she could've kept a towel or something of the sort wrapped around, but she would look just plain ridiculous – and that thought came from someone who had some fairly outlandish idol outfits in the past, even heading into combat.

Sitting on the far right end of the foyer's central staircase, Athena's eyes locked down onto her phone as she bounced between her list of recent contacts, her email and a couple social media sites in a little bit of catch-up during her downtime. Her knees shook up against her arms leaning atop them, a very telling sign to her patience standing on slightly unsteady ground due to the whole 'clothing' issue.

"Miss Asamiya?"

"Hmm?" Athena glanced up to meet the graces of Chizuru, who noticed the Psycho Soldier before she fully passed by.

"You seem a little distressed – are you having a rough morning?" asked Chizuru.

Athena shrugged. "Depends on how 'rough' you consider someone randomly sneaking into and sleeping in your bedroom. That and my mind still can't get away from that...'wardrobe malfunction'."

"I see." Chizuru briefly surveyed Athena's bedroom-wear from where she stood. "I'll admit, seeing you as you are strikes me as _off_ – you have so many attires at your disposal, and you didn't consider an extra pair?"

"Well, I don't often have as much free time as I do right now for this stuff – basically, in my head was 'pick something and hope for the best'. Since you and Elisabeth have all the cameras around, I'm sure you've seen what came next."

"Oh, trust me – we've seen far past 'too much' yesterday," said Chizuru. "At the least, you could've called out to a friend to make sure you wouldn't deal with that problem for long..."

Athena nodded. "That's what I did, last night. Heading from Japan to France isn't easy, though, so I'm just playing the waiting game."

Athena was in sort of a low point, attire struggles keeping her beneath her usual optimism for the upcoming battles to be.

With how cute and wordlessly pleading Athena looked at the moment, it was close to impossible for Chizuru to go on her day without giving the fighting idol less than a bit of aid. "Well... Elisabeth and I are enjoying the morning with a bit of tea before the fights continue – if you wouldn't mind...?"

"I wouldn't," Athena responded. "Though I would like something to help me feel less naked – the shorts were all I had, and..."

Chizuru laid a calm quieting finger close to Athena's face. "Don't worry about it." She put her hands within Athena's and stood up with her. "We should probably get going – it's close to noon, and the second round's just about to begin.

Athena's eyes sparked with surprise. "Wait – _about_ to begin...?!"

"We'll make sure you have as much time as you need before your time comes up in the round." Chizuru held the idol near and dear in her assurance. It was with these consults and heart-to-heart moments that it was true the tournament was in reliable hands, worries mostly begone...

* * *

"Miss Blanctorche, if you don't mind – we'll be joined by a guest for a few moments."

"What's the occasion here?" As Elisabeth turned her attention to her cohort and the fighting idol alongside, it looked clear that the scenery involved here seemed easy to settle in.

In a partially-outdoors balcony setting similar to the 'combat zone' that housed the Mai/Nakoruru fight ( _minus the smashed bits_ ), a few chairs – a quantity greater than the amount of people involved – sat around a table laid with the aforementioned tea and the sunlight graced the scene with beautiful lighting partially thanks to the outlining of the flower-patterned ceiling fencing above.

Chizuru explained the involvement of Athena in this momentary join-up. "Just one of the competitors dealing with some brief issues for the morning – she'll benefit with a bit of comfort."

"Please don't mind me being like this right now," assured Athena, as she sat down right next to Chizuru. "I'm just waiting for a friend."

"Don't worry yourself, Asamiya." Elisabeth sat on the side of the table opposite to the two others. "Just try not to get in the way – we've already appointed the zone for the first fight, and it looks like it may begin any minute now..."

Athena's eyebrows peaked. "Really? Where?"

Chizuru pointed accurately towards something in the midst of the green grass ahead. "You see that structure far out there? The pavilion?"

That structure was primarily a roof, a floor and railings alongside pillars – from where that balcony setting was sat, it was a difficult sight, mostly for Athena, who leaned and squinted to focus.

She admitted, "That... really seems like an inconvenient spot to watch from over here"

"There's a TV screen just over here, you know," Elisabeth pointed out, to the screen in the corner of the balcony. "We're _more_ than prepared for spectating."

"Oh. So there is." Considering she failed to recognize it up to that point, Athena started considering getting her eyes checked for a brief minute.

Those thoughts barely mattered in the long-run – what will soon matter was the second round, and if one would focus closer on the pavilion that carried quite the Asia-inspired architecture, someone was already in the middle of it, more than ready for the new round of battles.

* * *

A thing of beauty was drifting about within this pavilion – a one-woman show, as it could be described, Mai Shiranui fulfilled her patience towards the incoming opening of the tournament's second round with the most graceful of katas imaginable.

Twin fans in hands, and a lot of leeway for the cloth on her well-repaired attire to drift around in the breeze, Mai set forth an interpretive dance expressing her preparations for the battle to come. The only thing truly missing from the scene would be a beautiful light rain of pink sakura petals drifting down around her in the hot wind – seemed like an idea for Mai that would require the presence of fellow second-rounder Moe Habana, but she was due for a different bout later on.

For right now there was another, potentially more dangerous, opponent waiting further up the path from the zone, approaching the pavilion in zero hurry.

It didn't take long for Mai to recognize the approaching her from behind – her movements settled down into a simple stance as she looked back with a welcoming grin. "So... what brings you here?"

"Is it not clear?" Tightening one of her gloves, Leona was ready to start this round the same way she finished the last.

"Oh, it's _very_ clear," Mai chuckled. She just simply liked to stir the pot with her opposition; part of the kunoichi's teasing tactics, as they'd say. "I hope you don't mind me being in the way of your 'mission'."

Leona responded, "This place deserves some cleansing – just so happens you'll be collateral damage."

It was crawling to crystal-clearness how little Leona may budge to any rebuttal possible out of Mai – the Ikari Warrior took her fighting stance, no need to say anything more before the fight.

"No surprise how much you really wanna finish the job. Very well..." Mai arched her back and took her position. "Let's have this dance..."

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** **We start off the second round on a marquee match – Leona vs. Mai! Two ladies with a strong streak behind them, but only one will stand tall!**


	29. R2: Leona Heidern vs Mai Shiranui

**SECOND ROUND – MATCH #1  
** **Leona Heidern vs. Mai Shiranui**

* * *

 _ **FIGHT!**_

The battle went away rather quickly as Mai lunged in with a low sprint, the remnants of dust blasting backwards from beneath her feet as she dove straight in for the attack. In the last second, Leona denied any sort of a 'first attack' by dashing off in the right, and distance was regained as Mai wound up standing right where initially started.

Mai tried again; another mad dash forward that this time wound up with her and Leona trading positions – as Mai went deep and low on her run, Leona did a wide cartwheel past. Not a hair out of place on the blue-haired soldier's head as her hands held out sternly in their palm-first position.

Mai smirked back with cleverness towards Leona's superbly stoic composure – clearly seeing a hard read within the Ikari Warrior's reflexes.

" _Kachou-Sen!_ "

With a spinaround, Mai chucked a fan ahead, and it immediately landed between the fingers of Leona – just as she simultaneously tanked the tackle into the midsection from the seductive ninja, barely taking a couple small steps in order to readjust and balance herself. Leona's face showed little struggle as she held Mai down under her left arm while still holding onto the stray fan with the other hand. A few seconds later, she discarded the fan, flinging it over the fencing of the pavilion as she went full force on Mai's left arm as the targeted limb.

Perhaps a bit too much focus, as Mai swooped a leg up and overhead against her opponent, plopping a foot over and against Leona's face with minimal effect. Leona reeled back somewhat, wincing slightly though still holding tightly onto the succulent body of the kunoichi...

...and then was flung forward by a bit of blunt force right on the back of her head! The stray fan came back!?

Taking up the advantage given by the homing butterfly fan, Mai again reeled her lower body up and over, this time with both legs flexibly hoping over and around Leona's legs as Mai enacted a headscissors takedown. Leona went flipping forward into the ground, but she took the impact and sprung back up to see athletically bouncing around until they again locked eyes, sharing similar kneeling positions across the makeshift battlefield.

"I thought a soldier was supposed to have eyes on the back of their head?" taunted Mai.

"That fan was all a part of your strategy, was it?" Leona responded.

Mai retorted back, "Or maybe you're just unlucky." She then ran at her opponent again, going for some no-bullshit attacks as she first swung in with a leaping roundhouse. Leona ducked, and swiped with a slashing palm, but Mai narrowly evaded the strike, jumping in afterwards with a knee smashing against her soldier opponent's chest before springing away. Her rebounding leap away met its end destination against the inside edge of the roof, and she landed precisely in the cervice, perched like a bird.

" _Musasabi no Mai!_ " Mai made a beeline straight down, fan in mouth as she attempted a swift collusion with her opponent.

Leona leapt back just enough to force Mai to make a rolling landing some inches before her opponent, but the kunoichi adjusted in the milliseconds of thought she was allowed, and extended a leg in a low sweeping kick that clipped Leona in the left ankle and tested her balance further.

Taking up on the opportunity against the groggy opponent, Mai jumped up with another flip, catching her toes on Leona's chin with the indirect kick. A couple more almost inhuman vertical spirals around later, Mai grabbed the fan off her mouth and tossed it...

...but Leona _again_ caught it, just inches from hitting her in the face! Though she was still pained from the kick, her mind still recognized the projectile as clear as the sunny day around them, and she slowly recovered from her position just as Mai ran back into close range with another wide kick. She blocked the thick leg winding in, and caught it over her shoulder, before spinning around and thrusting an elbow right in the side of Mai's face. Spittle alongside light bits of blood rendered out of the strike, flying right out of Mai's mouth as her whole upper-body had a rough time staying put with her imbalanced position.

Grabbing onto Mai's caught leg under both arms, Leona flung the kunoichi over with a strong toss that sent Mai dangerously close to a rough landing against the isolating fence of the pavilion. The blue-haired combatant continued to hold onto the leg of Mai, especially the ankle, as she lifted the kunoichi up slightly and grabbed a handful of the leg in a locking grapple.

Working the leg meant a test to her opponent's mobility in the future of the fight, and Mai's speed was at some sizable risk. In exchange, Mai was fully motivated to endure for just long enough as she looked forward to her next plan of attack. Part of her initial motivations _did_ rely on fun and mind-games, but she was dealing with a stone-cold soldier, not to mention at a point much earlier than she would've expected in a tournament like this.

...

Before long, Mai turned the tide with a rollover, and overpowered the wear-down hold with the front roll as she sent Leona tumbling over onto the fence. The soldier found herself right on the other side of the barricade of the pavilion, gripping on tightly to top of it as she wobbled around for a moment – she managed to lift herself back over...

...and was met with a full-force boot in the face courtesy of Shiranui – Leona found herself in a couple impromptu flips, a total ragdoll spiral across the zone's interior, landing on the hard ground much rougher than the last instance and with a small shockwave of dust poofing out from beneath her splat.

It took much longer for Leona to recover from the landing, a bit too far out of focus – thanks to the impact of the kick – to pull out another quick recovery.

Mai gandered on at her opponent from the other end of the scene, looking as though she was getting too much of an advantage too quickly out of the bout with the soldier.

"You're not too far out of your element, are you?" she questioned. "You're usually a harder cat to catch in a fight like this..."

Leona didn't say anything in retort yet, only grunting in frustration ( _and also a little bit of pain_ ), even briefly punching the ground; considering she had the least amount of time between her first and second round bouts, she was probably the least fresh regardless of how far spaced out the phases of the tournament were.

Also, despite narrowing down the threat of evil from 3 to 2 after the last round...

 _Thump-thump... thump-thump..._

It still haunted her, even with this evil far and away from the scene.

Leona clutched her right arm, trying to seal off the heartbeat too loud in her head as she climbed back to her feet. "Ngh... you shouldn't be worried about me..." she said.

"You're probably right," Mai responded, shrugging casually. In her next swift act, her hands came together in another ninpo hand-sign, "Right now, _you_ should be worried about _me._ "

The flames came flowing in with ease around the body of the red-clad kunoichi, and her clothes flowed perfectly in the wind helping the orange-red aura hover around.

" _Hissatsu~!_ " Mai flung herself in with a burning cartwheel, and a piercing elbow out furthest.

Looking ahead at the burning beauty, Leona brought her arms outwards to clash against the maneuver – the elbow was bravely blocked despite the blistering heat that tumbled atop the already hot noon, and she grabbed onto Mai's striking arm as a means to stop momentum.

Mai quickly broke away, however, and twirled about. " _Ryuu Enbu!_ " Just like in her efforts in her previous bout, her tails again erupted with the spirit-bound flame, whipping out for head-on contact.

Leona's defense didn't whittle even a slight bit as she ducked under it and pulled out a swift 180 spin into a kick, pressing her boot right into Mai's back as she struck him out of close quarters. As Mai stumbled off, Leona continued to revolve about as she brought her arms together and split them out into an X that slashed out into a cross-projectile.

Mai saw the projectile come out quick enough to try and counter against it; straight from the comfort of her cleavage, she flung another of her countless fans at it to cancel it out, and it was to well enough success to force Leona's slash into dissipation – at the sacrifice of the paper fan that split off into four pieces upon impact.

Mai continued to bring about the ranged offense with her fans, as she brandished two more in her hands – which turned out to be two _sets_ as she threw them and a whirlwind of _ten_ fans spiraled out.

Leona was forced into a period of target practice as she pursued the sexy ninja, slashing through each and every individual fan coming her way with swiping strikes. Her eyes didn't lay away from her opponent throughout up to the point where she charged out with a double-handed slash.

Mai limboed under at the last second, just narrowly evading the sharp energy flying out of Leona's hands. Her thighs in turn caught around Leona's midsection before completing the flip and slamming the soldier _right atop her head_ on the wooden floor!

Mai's charismatic maneuverability flourished for much longer than strategically necessary, as she flipped about in cartwheels and front-flips before one last backflip into a dismount on the other end of the architecture.

A beautiful completion to some ambitious showboating to an audience of none ...except for the clumps of hair that suddenly fell down in front of her – as a delayed result of the narrow slicing, part of the front-end bangs of hair on Mai's head took the impact in exchange for her face being left unscarred.

"Uhh~!" Mai was naturally fazed – even the slightest of haircuts was not necessary in her eyes, and it kind of unnerved her how close she was to having her good looks messed up ( _and not for the first time_ ).

More than unnecessary for the Shiranui icon to retaliate immediately, safe to say, as Leona was just barely moving, attempting to bring herself back up despite the blood slowly surfacing out the back of her neck off the crown of her head where she crashed into the ground.

Mai began to think... " _She's down, but not out – I guess I really shouldn't be surprised... one more big move, here's to hoping that's all it's gonna take._ " Her hands were brought into one position again, index and middle fingers together as she returned to the flames of her inner soul in preparation for hopefully the end of the bout.

Leona had finally managed to get back onto her own two feet, glaring with motivated intention as she saw the beauty of a phoenix flourish through the aura of flame – it turns out a lot of burning passion can come out of a big-breasted beauty, a lot more than expected, and a good half of the pavilion was soaked in Mai's firestorm.

Leona stood there in place for what felt like ages in witness to the power in front of her. In the rare instances in the past where they met in previous _King of Fighters_ tournaments, she hadn't seen much of anything quite like this. A thousand possible scenarios encircled her mind, and a very small amount of them truly ensured success. At this point, she was up to anything as long as it was optimal for success.

But then _abruptly_ , the blazing fall of dragon ember soared straight down on where Leona stood, separating itself from where Mai stood as she stared straight ahead at the explosive destruction, and the splash of fire spreading out all over the place as a result of her chaotic ninjutsu. So much of a spread of flame ensued in the attack that a cloud of soot and dust eventually submerged the entire pavilion – it was with relief there were plenty of open spaces or else carbon monoxide poisoning would be a bitch to endure.

Coughing a bit as the spread of dark dust came through past her, Mai could barely make out anything besides a silhouette in the distance through the smoke, looking a bit slumped over.

But then it lunged in closer – and then suddenly she felt as though she got stabbed in the gut. With fireworks.

As the clouds of black vanished into the wind, an image of the opponents came clear – Leona's fist was buried not so much _within_ but absolutely deep _against_ Mai's stomach, crackling with her own destructive energy, popping and burning like fireworks before she separated, the temporary tints of red fading away from her blue hair.

" _Sayonara._ "

Mai's body basically combusted from the inside out – thankfully it didn't do anything gruesome beyond blasting her soul with so much overwhelming power that it quickly rendered her unconscious before she even fell to the ground. Smoke fizzled out of her mouth, and her eyes glazed over, as the badly burnt kunoichi flopped to her knees, and then onto her stomach on the ground.

Standing away from the explosion, as flinchless as a statue throughout, Leona stood tall – though black singed patches laced around her body and clothing here and there from the towering blaze coming down, she still maintained her stoic professionalism in a closing stance, only _then_ finding time to look back at the prone body of Mai.

"I know my place," said Leona. "You should know yours."

 **WINNER: Leona Heidern**

* * *

The exhaust of the climactic finish spread wild if increasingly thin due to the clear wind. You could barely go through any part of the scenery around the mansion without getting less than the slightest whiff of that bitter, burnt smell.

No more different in the open-windowed garden room fairly far from the now-completed bout's combat zone, where Nakoruru heard and _felt_ the aftershock of the explosive finish of the Leona/Mai match – once the smell of smoke started to crawl close into the room she graced, she closed a couple of the open windows.

It was almost frightening, sticking around in a locale so filled with consistent combat. It felt like a warzone even where she stood. She just wanted to tend to the flowers and plants decorating the room – her and Hotaru, who was more than willing to share the admiration of the natural essence.

The Juu-kei fighter noticed, "Are you okay there?"

"I am," Nakoruru said, maintaining a peaceful mind. "Still trying to get used to the possibilities of the tournament. Right out of the corner of your eye, you could see it – another pair of souls fighting for their life."

Hotaru glanced out towards the window, and the far sight of the mountain of smoke dissipating away in that pavilion over there. Even the screens in the few corners of the room were blasted with dark grayness, almost taking some of the shockwave of the discharged elements at the climax of the now-completed fight.

"I see your point – it's kinda terrifying even just watching it," Hotaru said as she tried to focus back on the blooming plants. "I suppose the spirit of competition, and the feeling of victory is truly what keeps most of us going." When she thought about it, she was fine off having lost in the first round, just like the nature warrior beside her.

Nako looked down at the pretty colors of the flowers before her. "It's fine, though. Nature helps me keep close to where I belong mentally. I'd really love to bring Love Heart along to these places more often, but... right now she seems to be having some trouble, so I've heard."

Hotaru tended to another plant as she listened. "Well, I'm sure she'll figure—"

 _Thunk-clang~!_

"...things... out..." Hotaru's eyes narrowed towards the door of the room.

Out from the corner of the room, Mamahaha let out an alerting cry before fluttering off and onto the arm of Nako, who joined her fellow peaceful fighter in looking out for danger.

" _Ugh... too heavy..._ " After a moment of patient observation, it was discovered just what was causing a brief ruckus out of the girls' focus.

Malin's form slowly entered the view from within the entry of the sunroom, having some obvious trouble with a bag that was particularly heavy for someone of her stature. Hell, it looked almost taller than she was, and she was a fairly short girl to begin with.

It took a moment too long for her to eventually notice Nakoruru and Hotaru looking on from the other side of the double-doors of the room. "Oh... hey there," she eventually greeted.

"Uhhh... 'Malin', is it?" Hotaru looked willing for assistance. "Do you need any help with that?"

"No," Malin strained, again tugging on the bag that she wound up having to drag it across the floor. "I'm good – _really_..."

"That doesn't exactly look helpful for your back, carrying such weight," noted Nako. "Sometimes a little aid can go a long w—"

Midway through Nako speaking, Mamahaha crowed out another brief squawk, suspiciously peering out against Malin all the while – and Nakoruru took quick notice.

"Ohh~? Do you sense something, Mamahaha? Is it something relating to her?"

Seeing Nakoruru briefly gesture towards her, Malin's approach to conversation grew slightly panicked. "Oh _nononono_ there's nothing to sense here – just a girl dealing with too much baggage on her hands!"

The blonde hooligan took in a full lift up of the bag from the side, and the struggle somehow willed the zipper across the bag to split open partway.

Cue a shiny gold sword plopping out from the unzipped opening, clanging right out between where Malin stood and where Nako and Hotaru were. Silence fell and laid there between the three for an unbearably long time.

…

"Uhhhhhhhh _panic mode!_ "

Shoving a hand into the pouch on her belt, Malin was forced to improvise a quick escape, as she suddenly tossed something out onto the floor – which quickly turned out to be a smoke bomb that blocked out the sight in the doorway, and forced Hotaru and Nakoruru.

When it cleared a moment later, Malin was gone, as was the bag and the suspicious sword. Even though she escaped, she still left behind something for the other girls to think on.

Hotaru began to ask, "You don't think that was Love's...?"

Nakoruru reluctantly nodded. "Yes – I'm afraid it was."

* * *

 **So yeah, Malin's back into some sort of focus, clearly in kahoots with Jenet from the looks of things and the evidence exposed. Ahead of you speculating, though, know it's gonna be a few chapters before we see more of either boisterous blonde. Meanwhile...**

 **Next Chapter:** **Things have started heating out with the turnout of the previous bout – next time, two of the most seductive babes remaining in the running engage in combat!**


	30. R2: Luong vs Shermie

With the first match over and done with, the second round opened on a good note – though the explosive finish threatened to obscure sight and smell, it didn't really reach that far enough to hit the porch that Elisabeth, Chizuru and Athena were sitting at. Conversations minimal and focus quite at the maximum, it seemed almost as great for the spectators as it was for the fighters.

Unfortunately, they weren't completely isolated away from others wanting problems sorted. Someone had to come in and set their foot down.

 _THUMP!_

In came the towel-clad Love Heart, only having all eyes on her once she set a foot on the edge of Athena's table.

"We need to talk about this," she said, with arms crossed and a stern stare.

Elisabeth sighed, knowing things needed to be sorted out. " _Clearly_ there's a problem..."

Chizuru was the first to point out the obvious lack of clothing beneath the sky pirate before her. "Miss Love, you have a match this round – shouldn't you be prepared in your attire?"

Love was fuming with built-up frustration over the plentiful circumstances. "I should – but this place has one too many wrongdoers around here. I've been molested and robbed in a matter of minutes, and it's taken me _too_ long to find someone of authority."

'Molested and robbed'? Athena was still minutes away from waking up when the incident occurred, so to hear something like that happening within the same building, as one of the first major things of the day – it was _far_ beyond a 'yikes'. "That sounds... just _awful,_ really." Her eyes lingered out towards the ladies in collective charge of the tournament. "Is there anything you can do?

Chizuru looked particularly bothered, the atmosphere having changed with this brand new dilemma set before her. Her left elbow met the table, and the fingers of her hand riddled around her cheek as she inhaled through her nose. "The one time we have some time away from the cameras, and this happens..." She looked at Betty. "If anything, I feel it's for the best Love not compete in the early end of the match so she has time to find some clothes... don't you think so?"

Elisabeth's eyes stayed on the drink beneath her, deep in her contemplation on the situation. "It's really the only thing we _can_ do about this. Whoever did it snuck past our surveillance while we were here. Either she be given time to find the culprit and get her clothes back, or she has to have a new pair in order to be ready for performance..."

As soon as the term 'new pair' came around, something ringed up in Athena's mind. "Well... I still have my costume sitting around – I hope you don't mind being a little... _exposed_ beneath the skirt, Love, cause it's all I got right now."

From there, Love Heart surveyed the bland sleepwear of Athena, who comparatively looked slightly more clothed but just as deep in her costume dilemma. "What about you? You look almost as unready as me, from the looks of it..."

Just at that moment, a distant sound right outside of the presence of those four ladies on the porch – out on a path running along, around the mansion, a car safely veering past everyone's sight.

Visitors weren't exactly expected for the tournament as it ensued...

...At least for everyone outside of Athena, who had an increased sense of relief once she realized the reason behind the arriving car.

Athena said, "I think things can be arranged." Her clothing cavalry had arrived, and things were looking up for the Psycho Soldier.

* * *

 **SECOND ROUND – MATCH #2  
** **Luong vs. Shermie**

The scenery was refreshing – the sun was as bright as the sky was blue, in the courtyard where colors of green and orange flourished, and the near 90-degree heat guaranteed a sweaty effort for the ladies involved.

If the previous bout could be considered anticipated for star power, this one would be anticipated for pure sex appeal.

On one end of the yard, Luong – or, as referred by Blue Mary, 'the kick-chick' – welcomed the sun onto her body, taking the heat in stride.

" _Aaaahhh_ ~... I'm almost ready to melt under this heat..."

On the other end, Shermie – who can be otherwise known as 'Ash's new piece of ass' – swiveled about in her little idle dances, giggling in intrigue towards the Vietnamese dame she had been pitted against.

"I see you enjoying yourself there – you're not planning on sweating all over me, are you?"

Luong giggled back, continuing to pose shamelessly. "I think I'd welcome that – it'll just make me that much harder of a catch."

Shermie's unseen eyes squinted with growing desire. "Oooo... challenge accepted~"

If this was ever actually put on a worldwide broadcast, or even just online for free for anyone to see, pairs of pants around the world would tighten at a moment's notice.

 _ **FIGHT!**_

Shermie didn't take a second further of thought before gracefully lunging out towards her opponent, dashing in as Luong began to raise a leg in preparation.

Before Shermie managed to catch the full length of the raised leg, Luong caught her, arms around the neck in a clinch as Shermie only managed to handle the thigh up to the knee of the Taekwondo babe's left leg.

"I think I already got a good idea of what part of me you love the most," Luong said, right before her other leg swung up for the counter.

Shermie was caught up the chin by the first connecting attack, stumbling back towards her side as Luong did a backwards handspring out towards hers.

Shermie didn't take too kindly to the kick, mainly because she damn near bit her bottom lip off the impact – but she shook it off and came back in for more, heading back into the fray just as started to engage with a ranged strike, a left roundhouse kick spiraling in. Shermie caught it in her arms and threw it aside, only to have to keep her hands firm for catching as Luong went for the other leg in the roundhouse going the opposite way. Again, the French seductress discarded the attack, and on this instance managed to swing it aside with enough force to have Luong facing backwards.

"Gotcha!" Shermie grappled from behind, no hesitation in wrapping her arms around the curvy hips of Luong. Much like how she tossed around the overly-optimistic May Lee like garbage in the first round, Shermie wanted to bring some German suplexes into the offense against the other half of the Kim Team representation.

However, the Orochi babe only made it halfway before stumbling into a stop as Luong held her weight down against the throw, so that the most given to Shermie's suplex was the lift up to the peak. Luong shifted her body sideways, out to the left as she grabbed her opponent by the left shoulder and whipped her out into a rough tumble straight down to the ground.

Shermie was half-kneeling as she saw more swinging kicks on the horizon – Luong's first kick whiffed enough to only throw some air on Shermie's peekless bangs, but the second came across the French seductress' face like an impure slap before the third crashed down ankle-first in an axe kick upside her head.

All this didn't do any favors to Shermie's short-term planning, against the insane leg-work that threatened to outdo her own thick-thighed offense, and before she knew it, she felt her face being stepped over, and her whole body bending backwards as she crashed onto the side of her face, Luong's foot pressing down the whole way through until 's face was getting crushed beneath her heel.

After a little bit of showing off with her impressive stretchy athleticism, Luong eventually got off of Shermie's face with another escaping handspring, giving the Orochi babe room to breathe, if the accumulated damage still allowed her such. Rose back up to her knees, feeling out the side of her face – between the brief scratches against her left ear from being pressed against the concrete floor, the ache of her left temple thanks to the trauma, and in short nearly losing a couple teeth to the cause, she was dealing with a lot fairly quickly in the starting minutes of the bout.

Regardless, she smirked, amused. "Not bad – if I had to guess anything, I'd say you were trying to beat the sexy out of me."

Luong chuckled confidently. "Suppose you can call it a 'taste of justice'... at the least, what _I'd_ call it personally." It was easy to see that she didn't consider the belief of justice in the same way as the fellow Taekwondo fighters she was aligned with since her _KoF_ debut.

"Really now?" Shermie's smile grew a little wider as she brought herself closer.

Suddenly, her legs swung out, in a movement almost akin to a breakdance, and her thighs caught the left leg of Luong, taking her in the most inconvenient position while her other leg was raised up in standing splits. Luong's balance crumbled almost immediately as she wobbled backwards, but she managed to bring her hands out as if she was going for another handspring flip – but instead of that, she settled into an upward bow posture, refusing to budge further against Shermie's clingy legs.

The knotted connection between the beauties escalated into a bit of rolling around on the ground in a mess of groaning, moaning, sweating women keeping a hold of each other – eventually, they were basically entrapped in a scissoring figure-four-esque position, legs upon legs trying to crunch against each other in an attempt to perhaps break bones and hope for the opposition's submission.

Neither of the ladies had a true advantage over the other, but Luong was dealing with more than enough pain to know she was on the worse end, "I see how it is – _Nngh_ ~! – I went for _your_ goods, now you're trying to mess with _mine_?"

Shermie giggled through the pain. "Hehehehhh... rrgh~!" With a feisty growl, she tightened her thigh-based grasp on Luong's long legs. "You can call me jealous – but what you _can't_ call me, is _weak_!" Her legs continued to put on the crunch, forcing another pained wail out of Luong. One significant twist further to potentially popping a bone out of place.

However, by the end of the hold, Luong surprisingly managed to roll over somewhat, getting above and beyond a handful of Shermie's great thighs as she completed the turnover.

It was getting difficult to truly describe the transitioning flexibility between the ladies, but in short, Luong pushed herself off the ground and in turn Shermie attempted to roll it back over in order to slam her down and return to square one. From there began a very odd predicament on her end – Shermie wound up staying on her shoulders after managing most of the rollover, but she was pinned down as Luong stayed on top somehow.

Imagine, if you could, that you were in a situation where you were laying on the top of your shoulders – basically upside down – and you have someone right-side up holding onto your ankles while standing on you with their feet right on your crotch.

This best described the web Shermie was wound up in, as she grunted under the pressure of her opponent's feet riding up her sensitive loins. "Urgh... y-you know... you got a talent for innovative positions; I think I wanna meet more people like you..."

"There's _plenty_ more you haven't seen yet," Luong retorted, just before making a short hop.

Letting go of Shermie's legs and making her short leap straight down, she intended to stomp her face in, no pulling back on her force and impact. Bit of a mistake right there...

Shermie brought her hands up to block the feet, and before Luong knew it, she was lumbered forward onto the ground like a chopped-down tree; keeping a hold onto the legs, Shermie rolled backwards over the Vietnamese temptress and locked in a dangerously-angled Boston card.

Luong's body was bent into a tight U shape with her spine and legs taking equal pieces of the submission. Her teeth gritted against the pain as she pushed herself off from the ground, refusing to take the taste of concrete in the midst of the stretch-out. Within moments, she was able to overpower the submission and twist back around – but before she knew it, she was back on the wrong end of punishment.

Luong's world went spinning just as she was, as Shermie's spontaneous 'giant swing' gave her a ride she never wanted; it spiraled her mind to a complete scramble of dizziness and disorientation – by this point, the only thing she wasn't losing to the cause of this was her stomach.

To avoid the risk of sharing the dizzy feelings, Shermie didn't go any further than fifteen seconds before dropping her opponent to the ground like a sandbag. Even by that point, she was having a tidbit of difficulty standing, as she stumbled and fumbled about for a time, giggling and shimmying away the grogginess in an attempt to keep up the fun to her style.

On the other hand, for Luong, even when the spinning stopped physically, it stayed mentally as she kept a low profile on the ground, trying to find her way around the scenery while she was so drastically dazed. She crawled over to the nearest notable object in the scene, which happened to be a gracefully-flowing fountain. The cold but smooth feeling of the water was enough to help.

...But in the very next moment, Shermie came swooping back into the fray, an outstretched knee to deliver in a similar fashion to how she won her first-round matchup; she moved in for the kill – and went crashing knees-first into the column of stone in the middle of the fountain!

Luong had ducked out of simple intuition to her surroundings, and it saved her ass for the moment. As she regained the rest of her bearings, she could feel a bit of splash-back from the water bordered in front of her, and she quickly recognized why.

Shermie was, from head to toe, a drenched mess in the fountain, her hands and ( _likely wrecked_ ) knees sitting beneath the water as she dealt with the cold wetness. She _had_ to be dealing with a lot inside and out, but on the surface, it was hard to read with the dripping hair still wrapped over her eyes, and the posture she had as she was on all fours

Luong looked at her opponent ready to ridicule and laugh down on her, but instead she was feeling hotter than ever just looking at the wet French babe right in front of her. She could almost make out the indentation and the red of the nipples beneath the soaked pink jacket, and the thought toyed around her brain way too much to be comfortable.

" _Fuck..._ " Luong gripped the edge of the basin, her knees coming together as she struggled with her excitement. "I gotta finish you off first before I do~" She jumped right in and smashed her knees right down on Shermie's back in the landing.

Shermie found herself mostly under the few inches of water, but was quickly brought back up by her face as Luong fish-hooked the corners of her mouth and pulled aggressively, bringing Shermie's body into an unfortunate angle. Fighting through the strain on her mouth and, indirectly, her neck, Shermie flung her legs backwards around Luong's waist as she flipped around and turned the tables.

From there, the battle descended into a lot of ground-work with how they rolled over each other, clinging onto each other's wet bodies as they held nothing back with their slaps, elbows, knees and stomps of a brutal variety. All in all, it had wound down, and a victory was on the horizon from one of these sexy bitches.

More than a minute had passed as the back-and-forth struggle ensued further, leading to Shermie shoving Luong down face-first beneath the water, basically attempting to drown her into unconsciousness.

"This fight is getting a little down and dirty," Shermie expressed. "Not exactly either of our usual tastes, now is it?"

Immediately after, Luong escaped, taking a deep breath of air before sweeping Shermie over onto her back. "We can always get dirtier~"

She did a front roll over Shermie's body and took a cling onto her legs as she sat down against the Orochi babe's body, reversing the favor of being deprived of that sweet air onto the other.

In short, Luong was trying to drown out her opponent until unconsciousness, with a bit of shameless facesitting. One would only wish such a dilemma onto those that _wouldn't_ grow to love it, which would likely be very few.

Luong laughed tauntingly, looking down on her opponent. "Care to submit now?"

Shermie struggled to speak while submerged in the clear water she was sunken in – with the force pressed down on her, it was almost like a cinderblock resting on her face. _A comfortable, well-toned cinderblock._ She almost wanted to unleash a bit of electrical fury to try and get the Taekwondo hottie to buzz off, but considering all the water around, there were only ways it would go _bad_. Like, more than 'how Sylvie fucked herself up in Round 1' bad.

If it wasn't her Orochi-gifted powers that would help, she decided it would be the next best thing...

...and she gave a great big leg-hug, the gracious thighs wrapping around the body of Luong without notice – as close as she got without going into full pornographic maneuvers with her opponent, Shermie handled Luong with no care for safetly. Her legs went magnetic, tightening as much as possible, like a boa constrictor engaging on a supple victim.

Shermie eventually managed to escape the rear-ending predicament she was faced with and slid her upper body through the water until she was in a push-up position, her legs doing blessed work to keep Luong at bay, refusing to let up even as the hands of the Taekwondo lady tried to pry them free.

An elbow against the concrete beneath the water, and her hand resting on her face, brought a casual flair to her weardown tactics. "It's a shame – you look so good, but your tough love just isn't at my level... you catch my drift, no?

Luong was busy having difficulty breathing – the whole nine yards of the legwork being put on her left her lungs a little squished up, not to mention leaving her with trouble speaking up. "Ugh... I... _guh...!_ "

"Hmm? Come again?" Shermie shook her butt a little, and her legs in turn, as she kept the grip as tight as it ever was. "Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

There was no answer on the second attempt – before long, Luong went gradually limp in the clutches of her opponent as the hold consisted, her attempts to speak among the first few senses to slip away, and she eventually fully fainted, as the shortened breath got the better of her in the end. Not the most beautiful way to lose...

 **WINNER: Shermie**

It went awfully silence once Shermie knew when to call it then and let go of – it was nothing but the flowing water going around as Luong's body rested quietly floating at the surface of the fountain.

Though a rarity when it came to the competitions she fared well through, Shermie actually started to consider some thoughts in regards to the tournament's rules, in between the lines and all that.

" _I'm hoping I didn't go TOO far with all my fun there_ ," she thought. " _Such a succulent body doesn't have to go to waste..._ " She would never admit Luong had a better bod, but it was up there. Regardless, it was no way for a lady like either of them to go out on her back, without attention or aid.

A few seconds longer, and she made her decision – a decision that would hopefully be worth crossing boundaries beyond the other's control. She climbed up onto Luong's body, took a handle of her shoulders as she helped her up...

...and brought her lips against the other's in a life-giving kiss, a seductive hum of confidence flourishing from one mouth to the other. Shermie didn't exactly have the best grasp of CPR and all that jazz, but if there was one portion of it she knew best, it was mouth-to-mouth. It wasn't guaranteed, but potentially this kind of touch could work just fine.

And Shermie could tell that it worked once she felt a bit of movement within the arms that embraced her now-former opponent's body.

Also, a bit of tongue never hurt – but it _did_ come as a surprise, even to someone like Shermie, as she felt Luong's hands spring into action, wrapping around her as they went full-force in what went from an attempt to save a life into an attempt to catch some ass.

Speaking of 'catching ass', Shermie certainly felt a hand reach low to get a handful of hers, and that was the point where she had to break it off before someone started losing clothes. She could feel the string of spit stretch between her lips and down to Luong's as they both took a moment to breath.

" _Holy shit_ ," gasped Shermie. "You're wilder than I thought."

"The only thing I am right now is _horny as fuck_ ," Luong responded. "I'd kill for something inside me right now..."

Shermie's smile slowly contorted into something greater, and certainly more excited.

"That can be arranged..."

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** **With the series of events laid before her, Love Heart's bad day comes to a head as she has to defend her dignity in the tournament – the Sky Pirate enters action next!**


	31. R2: Love Heart vs Aoi Kusanagi

**SECOND ROUND – MATCH #3  
** **Love Heart vs. Aoi Kusanagi**

Unlike the sky pirate she was set to face off against, Aoi had no shit luck on her side to deal with in the morning, contrasting from yesterday being rough considering the business between her and the Hakkesshu; on the bright side, at least she wasn't straight up _molested_ this morning, though yesterday she came pretty damn close, _in a way._

The closest thing to said 'shit luck', however, was her tested patience as she stood by in the emptied-out conference room, tapping her toe as she had been standing by for minutes on end. Little did she know just what her opponent was dealing with leading up to now.

Eventually, the door opened, and Aoi turned her head towards it.

"Took you long enough – I was starting to get bothered—"

She stopped where she stood as soon as she took one good glance at her opponent.

In place of her now-stolen attire, Love Heart stood with crumbled confidence and high impatience in the attire Athena wore in the previous round, from the red and white top to the ripped short-shorts. Considering Love's more _developed_ stature, it was no wonder how much more tight and clingy it was to her body, and the skirt did even _less_ to hide her exposed butt through the ripped spats - not even her panties were spared in the raid, so she had to work with her nethers exposed.

The most Aoi got before having to cover her face was a short, baffled snort. "Okay... I see Athena pulled a few strings somewhere on _this._ "

"Bite your tongue," retorted Love. "I'm not in the mood right now – I'll fight this fight, get back my clothes _somehow,_ and be on my way as soon as I can."

"Sounds like you got your goals sorted out," said Aoi.

Love barked back, "Unlike you and your attitude."

"It runs in the family," Aoi scoffed, paying no need to act on the verbal jabs – she was a 'physical jab' person herself, opting to stand sharp. "Now, are we fighting or not?"

Love eventually met at Aoi's level with her own fighting pose. "I suppose there's nothing left _but_ to fight..."

 _ **FIGHT!**_

Love made the first move – a wide-swinging right roundhouse aiming straight for the chest with her heel – but Aoi caught her by the ankle and rushed in with a shoulder thrust, immediately backing her into the door she entered through as she jumped in with a kick of her own.

Love blocked the first kick incoming and then swung herself to the right as a second kick from Aoi came in, whiffing widely and catching the door knob with a decent amount of force that wiggled it without lopping it straight off the door.

Love Heart spun in with a rolling chop that swiped across Aoi's face, and she comboed up with a left elbow against the neck – the Kusanagi biker stumbled, struggling slightly to clear her throat as she felt at it with a hand. She couldn't see straight out of this, only catching a late glance at Love jumping in with a frontflip right before the ankle caught her right atop her skull. From this, it was easy to assume Love was handling things well despite the disadvantages she found herself with leading up.

That assumption would grow to be too quick to arrive as Aoi eventually managed to catch an incoming punch and shoved it back in a way where it could risk pushing the arm in on itself with enough strength. Didn't really matter, she wasn't giving her adversary the slightest of ease, no matter how ridiculous they looked. Aoi charged in with a flurry of kicks forcing Love into full defense mode, with the pirate forced to tank plenty of mid-kicks with her bracing elbows.

"Try blocking this!" Aoi grabbed Love's arms and then forced them up as she aimed low with a boot right to the gut – then she gave the pirate a trip up to familiar territory with a couple of juggling kicks up and up higher, shades of her fighting heritage. People like Cosplayer Kyoko ain't got shit in comparison, clearly.

Love's back bumped into the wall lightly as she slid back down to the ground with spine and elbows brushing down the whole way. As Aoi lunged in with a kick thrusting deeply into enemy territory, Love chose to block her stomach and halted that offense before the fight fell too deep into her Kusanagi opponent's favor.

Shoving away Aoi, Love groaned with superb frustration. "Ugh, dammit... I've dealt with enough struggles today."

"Just shut up and eat flame." Swinging across a burning hand, Aoi flung a pillar of flame, tracking forward towards Love's feet.

Love knew there wasn't much good to come out of directly blocking a low-riding flame – out of an attempt with no thought towards it, she kicked at the flame and, surprisingly, it managed to flow backwards from the slight wind force counteracting against it. Even then, Love still caught a little bit of the flame on her boot ( _well, Athena's boots if clothing ownership meant anything_ ) and some minimal damage was the risk to it all.

Aoi flung a couple more ground-hugging slashes of flame to try and wear down Love's catalog of kicking maneuvers, alongside her general maneuverability since, well, distance is among the several important variables within combat.

Bracing the possibility of burns on her feet coursing past the boots, Love proceeded to run through the flames, lunging out at Aoi's face as she grabbed her and forced some _truly_ close combat.

Aoi tried stomping down on one of Love's feet to take advantage of the possible light burns received, but they intertwined legs as the clinch ensued further before she could commit to that stomp.

" _Rising Heart!_ " Shoving out her opponent and catching her with a soaring palm upwards, an aura of justice flourished out of Love as she smashed Aoi up into the air, continuing the sky combat a little bit more as she spun and kicked her a couple more times, then took her back down to Earth with a spiraling corkscrew kick.

Battling both Love and gravity in her tumble straight down, Aoi flipped backwards and was thankful not to have shattered at least one bone in her feet as she landed on her staggering feet; there was no way she was letting some pompous pirate get one over her, especially one jammed into an impromptu Athena cosplay beyond her control.

Love came down on her foe with two hands together in a hammering swing akin to holding a sledgehammer or, in more related terms, the golden sword _that she didn't have,_ _ **thanks for that, Jenet**_ – Aoi caught it in both hands and strained as she nudged against Love's opposing strength.

One tough yank down, and Aoi drove Love's body straight down on a bent knee, piercing straight into the center of the pirate's chest, leaving her stumbling with a feeling of at least a couple ribs in the cage bending a little bit out of place.

Aoi continued the exchange with some left-right to-and-fro body blows fueled by her blood-born flames that splashed around in a particle of spectacular orange-red eruptions. With increasing intensity, she powered further through the offense of her opponent, with one hell of a wide roundhouse giving a 360 spiral out of her right leg into a collusion with the right of Love's face. Love's jaw rattled nearly out of place, and somewhere out there, a nearby dentist felt a disturbance in the distance.

Love spun like a drill until meeting a full-stop with another back-first crash into the wall, bouncing off and coming forwards again with no conscious intent.

Aoi sighed, seeing Love's efforts having gradually rippled away into what she was seeing now. "Just admit you just don't have it – hell, you probably have less right now, based on how you look."

Love gave out a grin, showing the noticeable crooked tooth that she received off that kick. "I suppose it's a foregone conclusion..." She had a feeling she wasn't going to come out on top by this point, especially with less of her arsenal in her - so might as well be defiant beyond the end. Her right hand reeled back towards her left hip, in a phantom motion of drawing an absent sword...

...and _SMACK!_ The backhand caught Aoi with enough ferocity and mach-speed swingage to give her a light red imprint of the sky pirate's knuckles on the right of her face. As she recovered soon after from the offending strike, she rose back up with fuel to her intent to combat, the fire in her eyes.

"Right. Shutting you up now." Aoi grabbed Love by the neck and lifted her up with all of her strength – and the flames spread into an popping explosion that

The explosion rocked the room so hard, the door leading out of it was blasted off as Love joined in its way out, falling down onto the laying door.

 **WINNER: Aoi Kusanagi**

* * *

Aoi was lacking a little on stamina by the end of the , panting and a little sweaty from exhaustion ( _though mostly from bearing those flames_ ). Another match over and done, and very likely more to come in the days ahead. Off to go tend injuries, suppose...

But after taking one step out through the doorway.

 _ **THUMP!** -thump..._

" **Urgh!** " Aoi clutched her chest, crumpling to her knees as her heartbeat suddenly fell out of place and everything blinked red in her eyes. Her hands came down to the ground just inches short from where the broken, unhinged door sat.

 _Thump-thump-thump... Thump-thump-thump..._

Her heart was beating at a different tempo than usual, and the ache coursed out through the entirety of Aoi's body as her face turned into a pained grimace of frustration and impending fear. She wanted to cruise through the tournament, but she was risking much with what she had to deal with alongside her fighting vacation in France.

No matter where she went, the voices of darkness and death followed. Those horrifically familiar voices...

The laughing... _the ridicule..._

" _ **You have our congratulations, Kusanagi.**_ " Mature's sultry but deadly tone were heard first through Aoi's troubled mind. " _ **Another victim burned at your hands. How does it feel?**_ "

Aoi's hands gripped against the carpet of the floor, growling in defiance. She could barely move anything else all the while, and the world around her began to gather a more permanent shade of red.

"Rrgh... the fuck do you want?"

In came Vice's voice to retort on behalf of her collective other, unsubtle to her ruthless, demeaning nature. " _ **Tch... don't act a dumbass. The moment you asked for a fresh coat on your flames was the moment you sold your soul.**_ "

"...I haven't sold _shit_ to you," Aoi retorted. Her voice almost echoed now, as the scenery around her looked closer to a dark red cave phasing into her mental reality. "I'm nothing _like_ any of you... don't act like I owe you anything..."

" _ **We don't need a cent out of you, Kusanagi,**_ " Mature uttered. " _ **Not for what we need from you...**_ "

Vice seconded, " _ **But we CAN take your sanity away if Orochi wills it... either you can embrace the darkness or let it eat you down to the bone.**_ "

Aoi's face was nearly feeling against the floor by this point. "Let it eat 'till it's full – I'l... _gnnh_ , I'll kick your asses personally... Shermie too if I have to – agh!"

Aoi grunted and fell further against the ground, experiencing what felt like a giant hand from hell grabbing around her waist and squeezing as much as possible. She couldn't see what was spiritually causing her pain, but as her sight got hazy, she saw something fade in right in front of her. Two pairs of high-heeled feet standing over her. She could barely urge herself to look higher up.

Mature laughed with all of her cold black heart, " _ **You look more pathetic than we anticipated~**_ "

Vice chuckled sinisterly in tow. " _ **Good. She's better that way.**_ "

By this point Aoi was about to tear off a chunk of the carpet with how hard she handled it within her fingers. The flames in her hands bloomed out once again as she shook her body against the forces hodling her back. Eventually, the fires coursed across her back like wings of fury as she bounced herself up and lunged forward.

" _FUCK OFF!_ "

Suddenly, the redness and the dark undertones of everything disappeared in the next blink of Aoi's eyes, and her footing immediately bounced out of favor as she caught a corner of the laid door and took a nasty tumble over it and back down to the ground. The flames fell away as she lost her focus on the clear hallucinations she witnessed and laid back on the ground. Her heartbeat finally returned to its silent but rhythmic beat as she breathed in and out the good air.

Even though the worst has gone, she could still feel something gross in the pit of her stomach. She eventually took a look at her quaking hands. One held orange flames while the other gave in to dreaded dark purple. It was always somewhat one or the other in the past years, but she didn't realize it was evolving before her, even more so since she arrived to the mansion.

"What the fuck is happening to me?"

…

On the other hand of the matter, as soon as the smoke of the fight fully cleared, it grew clear how much of a toll Aoi's fire took on the costume Love Heart took part with, shredded and singed to nothingness. You'd think being in Athena's initial tournament getup was bad enough for her, but having the costume annihilated to the point of basically exposing all of her without her being straight naked was just more of that awful luck. Here was to hoping Athena wouldn't be too upset about it, but knowing her, she probably had backups that'd she prefer not using after her _own_ unfortunate luck on the first go.

Speaking of Athena...

* * *

The events of the past couple days has been 'peak popstar dilemma' for the Psycho Soldier, between the unneeded 'exposure' and the helping hand she invited into the mansion.

Kicking it old-school seemed like the best idea up until the wardrobe malfunction – now, she was down to kick it 'high school'. Trading in the '98 throwback for her white and blue schoolgirl-style number, the attire felt a bit better on her body since it was a more recent attire than her previous gear.

One of the two freshly-welcomed girls by Athena's side was Kaoru, a fan and close friend to the Psycho Soldier team.

"Still fits great, right?" The fangirl always had a bit of a connection to Asamiya and her other peers. In short, a few strings were pulled between her and some of the people at the studio Athena worked with to get a trip to France.

Athena did one more twirl in front of the mirror, getting a little bit more of her fill of self-admiration. "It's almost like it hasn't been a day since I last wore it." Far from a bad thing, really; it fit her form as good as it did when she first started wearing it for the later _KoF_ tournaments. Even then, she was only fairly happy with how it looked once she got to thinking about it.

"Don't get me wrong, it looks as good as I remember it, but... considering I'm not in high school _anymore_."

"I think it still looks awesome on you!" The younger of the newcoming duo (though not by much), Momoko, spent a good chunk of the time embracing some part of Athena, whether it was around her body or around a leg; easy to admit that she was a bit handsy sometimes, and from some past discussions, probably even moreso with 'girls with big boobs'. Not saying any more or less on that.

Thankfully the hands-on approach from the happy dancer was not enough to make Athena _highly_ uncomfortable, but it was still just enough to at least get her a little bit blushy. "Uh, heh... thanks..."

She kept a keen eye – perhaps too much of one – on the slightly open door knowing there was the slightest chance someone could be looking in somehow. At least with Elisabeth and Chizuru, they seemed like upstanding ladies who were willing to respect privacy for the most part, but then there's others who weren't so much – hell, some could be the exact opposite in the approach.

"Ugh... leaving that open's kinda bugging me..." It was kinda distracting her. "Same for you two?"

"Huh? It's not like we're doing that much to warrant it, is it?" Kaoru was a little oblivious to the problem – maybe outside of the moment where Athena had to hide out some brief nudeness, in between changing from the sleepwear to her backup costume, but that was only a few seconds that came and went.

"Well, we might as well anyways; just in case of any peepers trying to hang around..." Athena responded, beginning to reach for the knob as she pushed the door out.

But it stopped just a couple inches short of shutting, followed up by a pained grunt – "Fuckin'–!" – and the series of sounds between the door's thumping halt and the grunt were too close together to be coincidental.

The door swung back open upon a kick from the outside source – which happened to be the ever-so-notorious Nagase, disgruntled at the moment as she interrupted what was definitely meant to be a private matter regardless whether that door was open or closed. It's surprising to acknowledge just her intruding force wasn't the weirdest thing, as the image of her additionally carrying the always-erratic Sylvie Paula Paula on her back.

Upon entry, Nagase proclaimed, "I hope you girls are finished lezzing out, I got a clown-vomit monkey I need off my back!"

Kaoru adjusted her glasses in utter confusion. "Uhhhhh _whaaat?_ "

Athena immediately walked into the doorway to shove away the honeybee ninja. "Okay, no! Whatever it is, we want no part of it, even if you knock!"

Nagase nudged herself forward in retort. "Well, _someone_ has to deal with her! She won't up and leave the shithole!"

Meanwhile, Sylvie was having too much fun with Nagase's unique hairdo, letting it run back and forth on her face like a brush. "Teehee! I can't help it, it tickles and smells so good!" Then she tried to get a whiff of the indescribable scent with one great sniff...

"Stop! Sniffing! The hair!" Nagase was about ready to break a nose in a minute if she wasn't also occupied with Athena's frustrated room defense.

Athena questioned, "Don't you have your own room to put her in?"

Nagase answered, "Maybe if she didn't try to _feel me up and down_ this morning, then I'd be more willing to let her hang around! Otherwise, she's _your_ damn problem!"

"You have secrets, and the eyes must know!" Sylvie's hands went autopilot all over Nagase's person, buzzing with too much intrigue on the mind as they went particularly low for the gray cotton trim at the bottom of the ninja girl's vibrant jacket. " _The eyes must know!_ "

"You try to grope me again, I'll start cutting fingers off."

"Ooh! With these?" Yep, ol' Paula Paula found the swords. "Ooo, look at the little panda handles!"

Nagase's teeth couldn't grit any further without breaking in on themselves. " _Godfuckindammit—_ alright, you flowers aren't any help." She started to turn around and leave, struggling with the body climbed upon her back. "Maybe I'll go find Lien, and she can cut this weirdo's vocal cords out for me..."

With Nagase trudging away with Sylvie in tow, the scene received an incredible contrast – the complaining and absurd proclamations came through to the awkward silence that followed between Athena and her visiting friends.

"Are those the kinds of people you've been fighting here?" asked the curious Momoko.

A baffled Kaoru then asked, "What kind of tournament did you sign up for?"

Once she was able to let slide the absurdities that entered and left her doorway, Athena finally sighed. "...And that's why we should've locked the door."

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** **Coming up next, Yuri and Angel throw down in what may become one of the smuttiest bouts in the match so far.**


	32. R2: Yuri Sakazaki vs Angel

**I'd like to give a short thanks for more than 3000 views on this story, by the time I posted the last chapter – and posting this chapter marks this story reaching past 100,000 words, so that's another milestone in the making for the story. Next up is probably "most reviews" since the most is 76 on one of my Tournament of Fate stories ( _and it's totally gonna get smashed since I'm perhaps only halfway into the writing of this whole story, maybe not even_ ).**

 **No need for further fluff here, let's get back to the madness.**

* * *

Malin was having a better time hanging around after that blown cover in the morning. She threw some aid in the sabotage of Love Heart ( _indirectly leading to her now-fresh loss_ ), and made it to safety with the stolen baggage in tow.

Having gained the respect out of Jenet the 'Superior Pirate Queen', now she has a wingwoman.

The thieving blondes were now hugging the corner of a wall, peeking around the doorway into the bar room where they essentially found the jackpot – in the form of Ash Crimson's presence on the far end of the table, having a pint of drink on his own as the chaos of the tournament projected on the TV embedded in the wall. Coincidentally enough, the Love Heart / Aoi bout had met its end just around this point, symbolically showing the results of the humiliation conga dropped upon Love thanks to the ragtag duo.

Would the ruining of that sky pirate's tourney chances be worth it for a lovin' time? ...Hard to say.

"Alright, time to be a woman, Malin!" Jenet chimed right before bringing an egging high-heel against the bag around the back of her partner, who immediately fought against it.

"Whoa _whoawhoawhooaa,_ B'!" Malin clung onto the left of the doorway, keeping herself hushed enough to not get noticed as she got up in her fellow blonde's face. "Okay, _first off_ , we need to huddle up on this!"

Jenet's eyebrows twinkled upwards in confusion. "Huh? Right now? When _he's_ right over there?"

" _Yes_ , right now. We ruined that pirate chick's chances with a good plan – I think we need another plan for _this, instead_ of you just shoving me into danger."

"There a problem with that? I thought you tend to do well with that short-term stuff?"

"Well, that goes for fighting, sabotage, rumors and slander, I pretty much _excel_ at that crap – but this is romance: _my_ first crush on a dude, and I dunno what you think, but I'm no ravishing beauty with a rockin' body like you."

"You're not saying that stuff just to try and smooth me up to your ideas, are you?"

"I might be."

"A for honesty, kid." Jenet's right hand met the top of Malin's bandana, roughly rubbing against it as she ensured eye contact between the two. "Here's the thing, though – I put together the pieces of that 'Love Heart' chick's downfall over the case of a night's rest. It's not a matter of 'step one, step two, step three' in minutes, it's all about knowing what would and wouldn't work. Of course, being the leader of a whole pirate gang does a bang-up job on thinkin' stuff through..."

"Then tell me what I can do _now_!" proclaimed Malin, taking a hold of the shoulder straps on Jenet's sleek dress and giving her an anxious rattle. "My shorts can't get any more damp over the thoughts of finally getting that bad baguette!"

That metaphor hung out considerably on Jenet's mind, and the pirate queen stared in bafflement for a little while longer than necessary "...okay... TMI, luv', but I get your point. When in doubt, just... do things how you think _I'd_ do things."

Malin would admit, that wasn't really much of good advice, especially coming from someone she only knew for the better part of a day so far. Eventually, she sighed, dropping the duffel bag of stolen goods to her side.

"I guess I'll take what I can get."

Malin then peeled the brown bandana off her head, fully unveiling her blonde locks. "Hold this for me, I don't want to look too 'thuggy' if I want some 'fuggy'."

"You might wanna cut down on the wordplay, too," Jenet replied.

"Never gonna happen." It was too late to catch her now – Malin was on her way to cash in her V-card.

…

"Hey tough guy – room for one more?"

Malin made sure to enter the fray with at least a pinch of style, strutting in with only a sleight recognition of anxiety that she did her best to hide.

Ash barely bothered to look behind, choosing only to fiddle around with his drink glass as he reclined against the bar table. He didn't have a word to say, at the moment, and it barely looked like he bothered to look behind.

"Nothing to say? Alright, that's fine by me – we're both kinda nervous around the place, I'll, uh... help myself..." Letting away her nerves a little longer, Malin planted her hands on the neighboring stool first before twirling up onto the seat with one last spin-round. She was doing perhaps a little too much to try and catch attention, but she feared it meant nothing since Ash didn't budge much to the new arrival. If anything, she felt invisible, but she didn't want to panic straight away.

Despite the one-sided conversation at the moment, Malin pushed on. "I, uh... hope you don't mind me maybe getting a drink to. Little on the early side for the kind of stuff here, but whatever, fuck it." If there was much she got from conversing and co-oping with Jenet over the past day, she knew the pirate queen's general favor towards alcohol. Even if she was a couple years beneath the legal age, it was a good thing the tournament was a private matter.

She took a handle of the table in front of her and started to lean herself over; to her ( _obviously lacking_ ) knowledge of bars, she was expecting some drinks under the other side, so it felt like a matter of 'reach under, grab a pint of something, maybe get some shared liquor going around and hopefully mission accomplished'.

Then she found herself in a bit of struggle – being a couple pinecones short of the usual size of a girl like her, she spent an uncomfortable amount of time trying to get a handle of something, _anything_. Ultimately, she decided to own the struggle and use it to her advantage, 'smoothly' sliding herself closer to her 'bad-boy crush' as she reached further until she eventually bumped her butt against Ash's back.

 _That_ was the point of which Ash eventually decided to recognize the tryhard – even if only to see how ridiculous the girl probably looked right behind him.

He asked, pausing between sentences for a brief sip of the drink. "You're Malin, right? The yo-yo girl?" The bladed yo-yo, Malin's most prominent of weaponry, was about 90% of the reason how Ash managed to know her – even in the case of the two only having been in two different _KoF_ tournaments, and never having their teams meet directly in either one.

Malin looked back up as soon as she heard him call her by name as though she was one step closer to the jackpot.

It was all going to be a tough path down for the rest of the way, as Ash sat his glass down and spoke up again. "...I'm just going to ask you and I suggest being honest; did you _really_ come here for a drink or just to get me to notice you for whatever reason?"

The sprung-up cowlick in Malin's hair stood still as she held her position along with her thoughts, entrapped in a compromising, bent pose over the table.

"...Well, _did_ you notice me?"

If he wasn't, he wouldn't be responding. Ash chuckled cockily, preferring that as his answer. " _Poser une question stupide_..."

Malin felt automatically locked out of the loop on that retort, language knowledge damning her down. "Hmm?"

Ash's grin curved towards the drink brought back up to his mouth. "Ah, nothing... At the least, I've gotten used to so many tryhards tripping over themselves – there's kind of a charm to it."

"...That... wasn't an insult... was it?"

"If you're willing to take a punch, just roll along with it."

"Oh, n-no, I can _totally_ take it..." Malin tensed up, trying to pick the right decision in her struggling quest, as she reached under the table in one more attempt to help herself to a drink.

It took her a moment to notice the half-full glass bottle that was slid over to her.

"Have as much as you want," suggested Ash. "Just don't make me regret letting you stay, okay, _petit?_ "

Malin's heart jumped with excitement, deep in her belief that she might be one wine-and-dine away from actually getting what she wanted out of this.

"Uhh, y-yeah!" Bounced between her depraved thoughts and her patiently-observing partner in Jenet just out of glance outside the bar room, Malin had a lot to think about as she took a handle of the bottle. She could at least consider waiting out and seeing what would come out of this – some would say the 'slowest of burns spread the widest', so from there she silently chose to observe the TV on the wall ahead.

It looked like another match was already being set up for the coming minutes...

* * *

 **SECOND ROUND – MATCH #4  
** **Yuri Sakazaki vs. Angel**

Pressure was high for Yuri. _Dangerously_ high. Not only was she slated for a bout against someone who can easily be considered a 'human weapon', let alone one who was also _highly_ frisky and bent on mind-games – but she was the last of the OG 'Queen' trio after seeing King and Mai chipped out between these first two rounds of the tournament.

Even with the odds faced and the pressure crushing upon her shoulders, she was determined. Disgusted, but determined.

Poetically, the fight was set within the same gym room that Angel faced, and technically defeated, Alice in the previous round. Regardless of whether or not Betty and/or Chiz intentionally set it up this way, it did not help with 's emotional spiral – _not a single damn bit._

She glared through the windows of the double doors leading in – where was spending her time with a last-minute workout, swinging about two punching bags broken off by the chains like a pair of aerobic Persian clubs.

Yuri's eyes stayed locked on the NESTS grappler, looking on for a while as she scanned up and down her opponent's body from jacket to thong to tasseled boots. There was so much going on in her mind that it was hard to lock down what specific feeling she had.

Was it jealousy knowing she had an inferior body to the opponent? Intent to succeed despite the odds? A building sense to avenge the fallen females?

More than likely, all of the above.

The built-up frustration eventually pushed Yuri to barge into the room, pushing open the doors as she entered through, standing tall and walking hard with intent to catch attention that she immediately received as Angel's eyes caught what was behind her and she stopped her exercise.

"Well well, the 'girl of the hour' arrives!" sarcastically announced Angel, the chains of the leather bags draped over her shoulders with casual flair. "I would'a figured _I'd_ have to find _you_ to get this match goin'."

"I guess I didn't want to give you the satisfaction of that," said Yuri, hands brought together to crack knuckles through her gloves. "I've got someone's ankle to avenge."

Angel chuckled defiantly. "How cute~! You're trying to step up for your fellow babes, huh?"

"Was that not clear?" Yuri's focused stare lingered on further, but as it held, it waned a little bit... "...S-seriously, was that not clear? – I'm _real_ pissed off at you for what you've been doing to Alice."

"Is it really that much of a problem? The dumb bitch caught _herself_ a break – it's not _my_ fault I was gifted with _all of this_!" Angel leaned herself forward, shaking around her jacket-handled breasts with intent not just to exaggerate what she had, but also with that bonus attempt to taunt, from what she said next. "Hell, I bet you would love to have _tetas_ like these!"

Yuri crossed her arms against her chest in an attempt to show herself as _highly_ unamused. "Not if it meant being able to break bones just because someone happened to slip something in there!" While she sounded very against the idea, secretly, she was fighting within herself over how intimidatingly big Angel's pair of knockers were. 'A-Cup Angst' was no joke.

"You seem like the kind of girl to do things the hard way," Angel retorted, leaning back and forth with the punching bags still carried easily over her shoulders. "To me, there is no 'hard way'; I just do things, and _I win!_ "

With not even the least bit of a warning, Angel chucked one of the punching bags and it was cast off with the velocity and trajectory of a missile.

Yuri had a tiny window of evasion, and she took upon it amazingly well as she dropped down on her knees and did a power-slide underneath the incoming bag, which ultimately collided with the doors behind and knocked one open.

Just as her short slide came to a stop, Yuri saw the other bag come forth in the same manner of tossing, but at a much lower aim, forcing her to jump up and over it. With a corkscrewing flip, Yuri came within a close encounter with Angel as she came down with a flying axe kick, but the NESTS grappler blocked it; Yuri came backwards into a backflip and back on her feet, while Angel wound up sliding a few inches across the floor from the momentum of the kick.

Just that slight of action pumped some adrenaline into Angel's body, as she laughed with giddiness. "I see you ain't playin' around with this!"

Yuri clenched her fists. "I don't have time to 'play around' – all I need is to get serious!"

The fighters were at the ready, and bad blood would boil over at a moment's pace.

 _ **FIGHT!**_

Yuri took zero time to put on more of the action, twirling out a pseudo-'Hurricane Kick' against Angel to start things off, though Angel was quick to block it all away. Yuri recognized the upheld defense midway through the attack and culminated it into a mix-up aiming low to successfully clip Angel in the ankle. Angel took the blow well, but her leg nearly buckled down regardless, leaving just the slightest opening for Yuri to jump in further with a two-step roundhouse...

…but Angel caught the attack by the heel of Yuri's shoe, forcing the karate girl into staggered imbalance on her other foot. "Look alive, _cabrona!_ "

Angel swept the leg herself, bringing Yuri fully off the ground as she caught her in both legs tucked under pits and brought around in a brief swing-about that while carrying just a bit of torque, also brought power to the toss; Yuri was sent across the floor carelessly and spent a moment bouncing out until she met the sitting metal legs of a vacant workout bench, taking it against her stomach.

Angel followed her 'victim' over, sliding down and driving a knee right against Yuri's back while pushing her gut further against the bench – with enough force, you'd expect Yuri to have her breakfast pushed back up.

Angel immediately clung back onto Yuri's body, body-to-back, bringing her out from under the weight-training bench and carrying her back to the center of the gym. Yuri fussed about in the arms of her reckless holder, looking for freedom, before making an attempt to fight against the momentum of it all by throwing her weight over on top.

Angel felt the brunette coming loose out of her clutches, and felt obligated to just drop her like unneeded weight coming off her shoulders – as Yuri came down to the ground, Angel had a grasp of her left hand, crunching down on the knuckles and the glove with a brutal handling, and Yuri's left shoulder bent a little bit towards some odd angles.

Thrusting herself around, Yuri gave her pain-sender an unwelcome gift in the form of an elbow driving out right against their face, threatening to draw blood as the point of the elbow blopped against Angel's nose. Angel's right hand stayed firmly wrapped against Yuri's left, even as Yuri followed up the unpredicted strike with a right kick against the side of the ribs. Both competitors distanced themselves away, still hand-in-hand before Yuri reeled her opponent in.

" _Ko-Ou Ken!_ " The palm of energy smashed out a brief extravaganza of particles against Angel's toned abs and she was fully forced away for the moment as she quickly wiped away the burning aftereffect of the energetic blast.

From there, Angel saw come running back in, a fist of burning passion ready to crack a jaw into the skies with a 'Super Upper' or two if necessary.

"Ah hell no!" Defying the Angel dashed towards her incoming opponent – and vanished from Yuri's sights just before Yuri's fist came clocking in for the jaw.

" _Chou Upp_ —uhhh?" It came to Yuri's attention that she was mindlessly attempting to uppercut the air – and she was too focused considering the toll of the mind-games to recognize Angel's re-emergence right behind her.

"Yoink!" Angel's arms came around in a hug around Yuri's body, and they both backflipped out onto the floor behind them, Angel's body coming down atop Yuri as she crushed down on her back.

Rising up quickly, Angel made sure to bring a handful of something along with her – this case being a mean grappling of Yuri's ponytail, recklessly pulling and yanking the girl up.

"Ah, get off!" Yuri yelled, her feet skitting across the floor in a desperate struggle as she prioritized getting Angel's hands off of her over putting on the offense on her own accord.

Angel didn't budge with her playful, careless efforts on her adversary's hairdo, smiling from ear to ear with deep sinister means only available on the inside of her wild mind.

"Cat got your hair, little girl?" Angel laughed, continuing to pull higher and higher on the ponytail, thankfully not to the point where she could completely tear it off by the roots, something she would definitely be able to do with the Herculean strength she was gifted.

One of Yuri's hands defiantly reached out in an attempt to gouge at Angel's eyes, whatever means possible to escape. However, before she managed to get anywhere with her attempts, she suddenly felt herself get yanked around much more viciously, in a horrific spin-around.

She quickly grew to realize how much of a bad idea it was to let Angel start to get bored of the moment, as she soon after felt herself vaulted by the hair of her tail, across the room in a horrific spill. She could've cracked one of her shoulders on the hard floor, but she was lucky to come out of it without any injuries.

However, there was still plenty of time for the match to take its toll on the body, and Angel was above and beyond willing to help with that.

"Alleyoop~!" Not even allowing Yuri to get beyond her knees in recovery, Angel's hands platformed atop Yuri's back in a cartwheel-esque motion and she swiftly dismounted right atop her – the end result was Yuri's face making its way back down onto the ground, her nose nearly smashing down into an angle that could rightly break it.

All the while, Angel was being as disrespectful as ever, taking a 'fine' seat on the back of Yuri's head – knowing her, she could just as easily squash someone's skull into a mess of a visceral watermelon under her ass.

Instead, she chose to force Yuri to endure some of the worst, pressing Yuri's face continuously with her glutes while taking her legs, knotting them around, and winding back in a simple but intense cross-leg Boston crab submission. Maybe she saw Shermie's bout a little earlier in the day and decided 'I can do that bitch one better'.

Yuri blushed under the embarrassing struggle of being sat on. "Ugh... this... is... ridiculous!" Managing to bring her Sakazaki will forward before everything else, she engaged enough force to bring herself out of the lock.

Caught off-guard by the freedom of her opponent despite such dominant efforts, Angel was left at a heavy stumble, nearly sending herself into a rack of weights. She had to cradle the gym props to stop the enforced momentum of her, leaving herself too open for her opponent to capitalize.

And capitalize Yuri did – dashing as fast as her legs could handle, she jumped up and got even further a workout on her feet as they pedaled up Angel's chest and face, dozens of little stomping kicks stacking up to what had to be quite the damage by the end.

As she sprung off from her opponent's body with a wide backflip high up into the ceiling, Yuri's hands again lit up with her heartful energy as she came down with two palms coming down...

...but her hands were halted _just_ before contact, with one perfect reflex still in Angel's system allowing her to catch Yuri by the wrists!

"Ngh...! Not quite there yet, _pendejo!_ " Angel drove a high knee straight into Yuri's gut, letting go the karate girl's wrists and allowing a bit of hangtime in the blowaway – then she did an athletic spin into a straight thrust kick into Yuri's chest, sending her back down to the ground for God knows how many times so far.

"I got a hell of an eye to see through all that karate bullshit, kid," Angel bragged boastfully. "All you got left is to do what you're truly good at, and be cute while you beg for mercy."

Yuri struggled to pick herself up to her feet, and equally so to come up with a comeback "Jeez, you couldn't talk less shit – urgh! – if you were eating... a _whole_ butt!"

Angel's eyes closed in one more brief laugh. "Do yourself a favor and stop trying to talk shit yourself."

The very next thing she saw once she opened her eyes, was Yuri charging at her at another defiant strike, leaping up... and turning around...?

Just as she trained and attempted a few times earlier in this whole tournament trip, Yuri decided to try and make good on the indirect promise she made with the insult she put together with loose tape, her butt pointing ahead to try and smash Angel a good one while potentially catching her out of her comfort zone alongside it.

She soared forward, her body flying forwards yet backwards as she put all of her momentum into the rear-ender – but then she felt her momentum stop...

...as Angel caught Yuri into her arms, wrapped around the waist as the Sakazaki booty lingered mere inches from the NESTS babe's face, her tongue almost slithering out past her lips.

Suddenly, Yuri was slammed on her neck and shoulders in a suplex, the floor doing quite the opposite of favors on her body as her legs looped over in turn after the impact, and she was crumpled in an unfortunate position in the hands of Angel's expert grappling.

Angel maneuvered herself over to stand over Yuri's body as it stayed in the overturned position, her rear pointing upwards for _all_ the access.

"Goddamn, when you talked about 'eating a butt' – I didn't think you were ready to basically offer me the booty straight up!" Angel's hands rubbed together in anticipation for the best moment to come out of the bout – what _she'd_ consider the best, at least.

Though kinda groggy from nearly getting slammed atop her head, Yuri started to realize. "Wait, _what!?_ I don't think that's what I meant—!"

"Huh? Do you really think you got a choice now?" Angel's hands planted down...

 _RIIIIIIP!_

…and Yuri's leggings, alongside anything else worn underneath, proved to be nothing but weak layers to her opponent, as Angel tore them open at the rear and gave the Sakazaki girl a whole new world of exposure from hole to fearfully-puckering hole.

" _Kyaaaah~!?_ "

Yuri, face overflushed with red, gandered up from her risque positioning to see herself exposed to the elements, the draft of dormant air flourished through her nether regions. "What the f— _mmhh!_ " Yuri's mouth was then smashed in by another deeply-thrusting knee of Angel, silencing her to the violations to come as Angel herself grinned with deviant means on the mind.

"Just shut up for a bit and let me partake, 'kay, hun?"

Angel took no time to her fresh 'meal', gliding her tongue from up to down on Yuri's pussy with a slow, savoring pace, making muffled whimpers out of the Kyokugen prospect from beneath the crushing knee, and struggled movements that barely budged what was going on.

The throttling of Yuri's body beneath the sadistic babe having her way with it only got worse as Angel's perverted tongue slithered off the slit and made a better home within the butthole, burrowing in with somewhat easy entry as the saliva-riddled tongue slithered in on its own terms.

Angel was impressed already with the scents and tastes to behold with Yuri's irresistible ass – it smelled of strawberries in a welcoming indication to the karate girl's body care, and tasted even sweeter as her tongue continued its voyage around the puckering hole's entry and further beyond. Her tongue continued to drill the hole with the desperation of a hungry cat lapping up the remnants of milks in the bowl, and she continued to slap and knead Yuri's buttcheeks like a load of dough

Eventually, Angel took even more matters into her hands in order to enhance her experience further. Shifting herself about a bit, she moved over to Yuri's other side, against her back, so that she could not only jump her tongue back into the asshole of her opponent, but bring her hands around the pussy for re-entry. By this point, she looked to be _extremely_ devoted and wasn't going to let anything stop her.

Even the overlooked detail of Yuri's mouth and arms being freed from entrapment under Angel's body went unnoticed for a moment, as Yuri began to struggle her way outwards to freedom and to be spared of further humiliation.

"Ngh~!" Yuri whimpered briefly as Angel continued to tongue-pound her butthole. "...Get... off!" Her arms flung up, intending to smack her opponent alongside both sides of her head to outright knock her out of her current focus.

Angel's reflexes countered quickly, however, as her free hands allowed her to catch Yuri by the wrists, and slowly knot them around behind Yuri's back to again pry the freedom out of her, all while her tongue remained in its spin-cycle around Yuri's ass with no stutter in motion.

"You can't stop this cat when she's on the prowl! Almost making me lose my appetite over your struggling..." Angel's hips thrusted against Yuri's back, further immobilizing her arms for a brief moment longer, as she pondered her next idea with the giftedly-thicc karate girl.

One deadlift later and had Yuri elevated off the ground, fully in her arms – one arm wrapped around Yuri's upwards-pointing legs, at the part of the leggings that stayed intact tightly on her body, while the other arm went to town on the Kyokugen girl's sensitive holes. Yuri's arms were kept compact between her back and Angel's knockers as the freaky-horny NESTS babe kept her stuck in this very uncomfortable predicament.

"Looks like you're in for a bit of punishment now," proclaimed Angel, right before her left-hand fingers went full-throttle on Yuri's clit, at a vibration speed that many sex toys wish they could reach.

Yuri found nothing to enjoy between the rapid fingering of her cunt and the compact clutch Angel kept on her carried, pained body – her legs, and especially her thighs, were starting to feel the toll of being kept bent at the angles they were for so long throughout this obscene phase of their 'fight', if it could still be called that.

Just when things felt already too close for comfort, Yuri was suddenly violated in yet another hole, that being her mouth – as Angel leaned in and forced her lips and tongue all over Yuri's, toppling the sexual torture into an all-out assault on the innocence that was already tested.

After a minute of a vicious mouth-to-mouth, the two broke free from each other's faces – if only so that Yuri could let out a shout of pained pleasure, while her pussy flared under the of Angel's fingers, her orgasm coming without warning as she squirted out across the gym, splattering plenty of objects alongside the floor ahead.

Seeing the insane range of the spraying orgasm, looking akin to a fire hose in action, Angel let out one hell of a laugh, befitting of the sexually psychopathic tendencies that gradually came out into the surface. "Yeah, I bet someone in this mansion's enjoying _this_ show!"

All this depravity clouded Angel's mind to the core – so much so that she didn't sense anything behind herself, and from there...

 _SMACK!_

...something smashed her on the back, when she least expected, and her lack of preparations left her to take the full brunt...!

Angel was forced to drop Yuri's sweaty body, dropping her to the floor and indirectly allowing her to ride out the orgasm more comfortably, while Angel herself crumpled to her knees, right before the interfering cavalry yelling down at her.

" _That's enough!_ G-gah...!"

Alice's bad ankle tweaked as soon as she grazed the floor with it, forcing her to follow suit to the crutch that fell out of her hands seconds before, annihilated to all hell off that one swing against Angel's broad back. A tearful grimace of anger, pain and frustration was expressed on the rookie blonde's face as she sat right behind the woman she attacked.

And Angel did not take it lightly, her usual sadistic smile turned into one of targeted rage.

"The hell do you think you're doing, _you blonde little shit!?_ "

Angel sprung back up, spinning into a roundhouse that smashed Alice across the face with full force, rendering a splotch of blood and a couple teeth out of the Fatal Fangirl's mouth as she was sent straight down in what one could consider 'an act of retaliation'.

From there, Angel immediately pursued the injured ankle of her first-round opponent, swooping it up into her arms, meeting little resistance despite Alice's erratic struggling against it.

"When I said 'you can't stop this cat while she's on the prowl', I _meant_ it!" shouted Angel, ready to break or dismember if she even pleased, just over not fully getting her rocks off. "Now scream for me!"

While she prepared the ankle lock with intent to pretty much tear the foot off the bone, again, Angel's priorities got the best of her...

" _YURI CHOU KNUCKLE!_ "

A vengeful fist smashed Angel deep in the center of her back – making the comeback of a lifetime from her potentially-traumatizing dilemma, Yuri pierced her opponent with her fist, the buildup of chi emerging from her quickly-gathered rage erupting in an explosive shockwave that threatened to blast away everyone in the premises.

A chunk of the wall just to the right of one of the double door sets leading into the room was smashed into nothingness, as Angel's body burst through it, left hanging halfway as she flopped into a barely-conscious mess – a piece of the rubble even caught her across her head, causing a cut that eventually turned into a slow downpour of blood trickling down what was left beneath.

Now it was down to the two girls, as Yuri stood tall, though sweaty, panting and still actively dripping with leftover quote-unquote 'excitement' from her torn tights.

Alice rose back to her knees, wowed by the crater through the wall. "...You... you did it..."

"I think I showed that bitch what's for..." answered Yuri, her fist still extended out in her pose as she looked at the mess that was left of her opponent. "That's what happens – you do what you do but this time you lose, Angel. _I_ win."

" _No, you didn't._ "

Straight over the intercom came Elisabeth's voice, and from the tone alone, trouble was to be sorted out immediately.

" _I'm sure the both of you know the rules already, especially more so for this round alone. No matter who stands tall and who is laying in their blood, an exception CANNOT be made. Yuri Sakazaki, as a result of Alice's interference on your behalf, the match does NOT go to you._ "

 **Winner, by disqualification: Angel**

Angel would wish she was able to celebrate if she wasn't halfway through a wall in an unconscious heap of blood and pain.

Meanwhile, Alice had to express frustration on behalf of the karate girl before her, tearing up again and slamming a fist against the ground. She had only herself to blame for the results of the chaos, and there was no taking back what was done.

She glanced up at Yuri, not quite getting a look of the expression she might've had knowing the fight was still at a loss for her.

"Yuri... listen... I'm—"

The embrace of Yuri's arms around her stopped Alice from going further for her attempt at an apology. The tears continued to flow, though closer towards a warmed heart than anything else.

"Just hold me," Yuri simply said. She was grateful alone for the save, even if she still took plenty of punishment beforehand. She needed something to cling onto to help her get over things.

Between the consistent scenery destruction at her hands between her two bouts, and the overall trauma of what Angel did to her, Yuri had a lot on her hands in both spectrums...

* * *

 **I honestly didn't expect to write THIS much for the fight and the scenes on both ends – especially around 6000 WORDS worth of it. I had to cut a bit of stuff, mainly what was supposed to come next in the storyline between Malin and Ash, and thankfully you'd only have to wait until the next chapter to get that. I'm glad I still wrote this much, though, cause this was a wild chapter to do, especially with the match itself, and I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **Next Chapter:** **A bit of a break in the action (at best, two chapters worth) before the second round continues – more hijinks for the likes of Malin, Ash and Love Heart, including plenty of 'plot development',** ** _in more ways than one._**


	33. INTERLUDE: Performance of a Lifetime

As soon as that Yuri/Angel match met its end, Ash was left at the 'peak of interest', in a way – _not really that hard to tell why..._

With how his time was spent, it was only a matter of time that he saw the heat and the lust carry over to the combat ( _it didn't really matter how violent or unjust it was, he was VERY clearly down with whatever_ ) – and with the ending going how it did, he held his consistently-tested urges within, his teeth nibbling against one of his gloves as he held sexually-frustrated moans.

It was the closest he had gotten to blue-balls, even without having bothered to unleash the tense trouser snake this time around – and it was clear all the 'frisky business' with Shermie really unlocked the drive within.

" _Merde_... I think I need more of a drink." Ash reached behind himself, recollecting where he moved the bottle of booze minutes earlier – and as he blindly poured what was left into his glass, he was quick to notice the difference in the weight of the bottle, and what remained – which was hell of a lot less than what was in there that he gave to Malin.

He looked dead on at where Malin was seated and saw her face-down against the bar table, having had more than her fair share of the intoxicants.

The sight was chuckle-worthy to Ash, seeing the young girl's first experience with these kinds of drinks. "Looks like you've had more than your fair share, no?"

"Mayb' not enough," uttered Malin, a slight slur through her few words. At least she found out her status as a lightweight, feeling pretty buzzed from nearly finishing the bottle, but that was really all the positivity she could muster as her mind was wildly clouded.

"Somethin's wrong wit' you, by the way," Malin continued, starting to bring her gripes close as her confidence distorted under the influencing drinks. "I feel li'e you don't seem to bother with me even when I'm ri' in your face!"

"Did you not realize that until now?" wondered Ash, feeling even more stupid proclamations were thrown his way. "I said, straight to you, that you're a tryhard. Would've figured you'd tank whatever's thrown at you just to get with me."

The bottle cracked at the bottom, thus allowing light leakage of the liquor, when Malin brought it down on the table as hard as she possibly could, her glare as sharp and lacerating as an active chainsaw.

"Y' don't know me enough," she said, coming closer to as she brought a hand against her skirt. "I'm a rebel who can get what she wants...!"

From there, Malin quickly hopped off her seat, making a precise landing right in Ash's lap as she lifted her skirt, flashing her black silken shorts beneath as her intoxicated self took no time to grind against with all regrets flushed away by the alcohol in the system.

"...and I bet I don't have to 'try hard' to make ya cum – care to prove me wrong?"

An arm of his draping around the body of Malin, Ash tried his best to fight the urge to allow his erection beneath to get harder beneath the booty shorts of the reckless blonde in his lap. By this point, his boundaries were far overstepped, and his expected regrets for having the girl by his side came true as he thought.

Ash's right hand nearly groped out at Malin's throat in a means to fight back at the obvious harassment at his expense, but he didn't want to go full-throttle on the tendencies, on something like _this_. Considering who he was actively involved with outside of this encounter, Malin was definitely a step down in both sex appeal and personality.

Meanwhile, his emerald flame began to unveil itself, charged up primarily in his left index finger – before poking in and prodding Malin right in her arm with all the burning properties of a brand iron, complete with the faint sizzle against her skin as she yelped and succumbed to light sweat and clear pain.

"Aaah, fffffuuhhh~! Nnnngh... more, babe!"

Ash's eyes widened as his burning touch faded."What?!"

Malin's eyes reopened, having barely heard herself through a mildly drunk mind. "...Wha'?"

"Fuckin' _WHAT!?_ " B. Jenet suddenly emerged from behind the doorway to the room, perhaps the most surprised of the bunch.

Ash and Malin immediately glanced out, the latter looking increasingly startled – rightfully so considering the blown cover of her efforts alongside her pirate queen 'partner in crime'.

Ash blankly blinked at least three times before clearing his throat and retaining some of his lost composure. "So... is this _pute_ with you, Ms. Jenet?"

Jenet blushed as she found herself unable to retreat back into hiding now, left as the awkward third banana to the situation. "...Unfortunately, yeah."

Ash grinned as he figured out the now-obvious plot that was sicced upon him – and then tossed Malin's body across with surprising velocity and force, allowing a perfect catch into B. Jenet's arms.

"Might wanna sober her up," Ash suggested. "She's _your_ problem now, not mine."

* * *

After a few steps away, finding her way out of Ash's sight, Jenet stood beside her friend, completely and utterly unsatisfied. "Why'd you have to get yourself drunk, Malin? You could've done so much better without it."

"Well, knowin' you – _urp!_ – you'd probably g't smashed before getting to smash a dude's cock!" retorted Malin, nearly burping part way as she tended to the deep burn on her shoulder. "I got some liquid courage in my system, otherwise I wouldn't have managed to get a little bit of a _grind_ on."

"Well, it's kinda clear now I can hold it down better than you." Jenet still handled the discarded bandana that Malin was wearing up to the 'moment of truth', shaking it out against her. "I hope to God, if you start to blow chunks, blow 'em into this."

Malin rolled her unsteady eyes. "Urgh, whatev'r, I'm not gonna be able to blow _anything_ tonight... let's jus' get the bag and replan for nex' time." She nearly stumbled as she looked down and ahead where she laid the bag of stolen goods, reaching out...

...even though that bag was no longer there. Malin didn't notice for a few seconds too long, and when she did, her eyes perked up in a worrying realization.

"Uhh... was the bag always not here?"

"Hmm?" Jenet looked at the same direction, and began to share in that worry, especially as she looked further down the hall. "Ah _shit._ "

She could recognize the silhouette of a bird flapping around the corner, and a shadow of the duffle bag within its claws.

"HEY!" shouted Malin, charging first.

Jenet ran ahead of her partner. "The fuck back here, you feathered pussy!"

They managed a short sprint together in pursuit for the fleeing bag, before Malin stumbled straight into Jenet's path, and they quickly tumbled into a downward spiral of tripping bodies slamming against the ground.

"Ah, you fuckin' drunk wank...!" Jenet insulted her partner straight to her face, refusing to take full fault for what was going on.

"Fuck you, " Malin retaliated, attempting to crawl back to her feet despite Jenet clinging on for dear life knowing it may be too late to catch the bird that stole back what they gathered together for.

It was clear the devolution of how the two were settling together, with Malin's buzzed self and Jenet's frustrations making efforts increasingly sad. They'd better have been thankful they weren't seen by much outside the nearby hallway camera.

...And also Shermie, on her way to the bar room, quick to judge the pathetic pile of girls for a moment, like a bizarre little art-piece.

She giggled, "One too many, girls?"

Jenet ruffled a hand against Malin's hair. " _She_ had one – and even then, sure as hell too much."

"Gee, _thanks._ " replied an oozing-with-sarcasm Malin, right before feeling a boot of Shermie give no fucks in walking over her like a doormat.

"You two go have _your_ fun," Shermie said in the brief goodbye after her brief hello, "while I go have mine."

* * *

Seeing the thing of beauty in the form of his beloved Shermie enter his line of sight gave out to Ash a genuine feeling of fascination and warmth every time, and it was no different as he saw her approach with a sultry smile.

"What I'd give to thank however many gods imaginable again and again until my arms get tired..." He said, again scanning the most desirable parts of Shermie's body beneath the layers of clothing.

"You don't need any, _mon amour_ ," she responded in kind. "You just have me – well... as much of me as you think you can handle."

"Oh, there's a _lot_ of you I _want_ to handle, _chérie_." Ash's eyes were glazed upon the curvature of Shermie's buttocks pressed firmly against the pillow of the seat beside him. Even before being given the chance to flip the skirt up, he wouldn't hesitate to give it a ten out of fucking ten.

Shermie giggled charmingly, beginning to move her stool closer – more than Malin bothered to try when she went 'in for the kill' just minutes earlier. "I can tell – your eyes are wandering into _dangerous_ territory there..."

Ash tittered back, landing a firm finger on a shoulder of Shermie's before sliding it down slowly. "I like a little danger."

Shermie met back on the feel-about, smoothing out the elbow beneath Ash's loose sleeve. While far from a simple design, she had a mind for a bit of faded red leather as long as it was nice to the touch.

The subtleties weren't around for long, as Shermie felt her way down Ash's forearm, pointing it further towards her _derrière_ as she led the way to its most desired destination.

Ash's eyes erratically bounced between Shermie's seductive smirk – not really much on her face he could look at on account of the peekless bangs – and her ass at the palm of his hand, and his pants got tighter and tighter as a result of the excitable mass beneath.

Shermie twirled her tongue around her perfect teeth, humming lightly. "You want this, don't you?" she whispered, putting her tempting tones towards the maximum.

" _Oh putain, oui..._ " Ash nodded, almost feeling hypnotized under the dazzling feel of his love's thick booty, as his barstool scratched against the floors in its even closer approach to hers.

"You want _aaallll_ of this?" Shermie's hips swiveled against the warm touch – so warm she could almost feel the near-physical flames of desire in Ash.

"As much as I could possibly want, baby."

Shermie's gyrations grew even more wanting without going overboard upon the barstool. "You want to hold it close... get a taste of it... fuck it deeply, and come loads within it... is that right?"

Ash's other hand began to feel the lustful magnetism of Shermie's desire. "If you want someone to hold it close, look no further _madame_." He brought that hand against her left leg and leaned downwards towards his target of interest...

...but he was surprisingly met with resistance, by a full bottle of wine plopping its cap against his mouth

Followed soon after by the bemused chuckle of Shermie, fascinated by the sharp halt of the lust in Ash's eyes and the replacement by confusion.

She proclaimed, her seductiveness toned down a slight and mixed in with a bit of cockiness, "Like I implied – I'm pretty damn sure you couldn't handle all that much of me. I could already tell you were ready to burst just looking at you; well, _several_ parts of you, anyways."

Ash's hands feathered away from Shermie's hips, out at his sides as he wasn't sure of what to come next between her and the bottle in her hand set partially in his mouth. "Hmmm?"

Shermie was a little busy at the second staring down at the pants of her lover, at the obvious leakage of pre' that managed to make its way beyond the deepest layer of his pants. She again tittered with intrigue.

"If we are to take all of this to the next level, I might want to see just _how much_ you can 'endure' from us, if you catch my drift..."

 _POP!_ Shermie flicked the bottle upwards and the cap came off from the pressure against Ash's teeth, thankfully doing no damage with the precise efforts – and she poured herself a nice share of wine in the nearest empty glass at her side.

Feeling out his mouth a little bit, Ash realized rather quickly... "Wait... what do you mean 'us'?" The next noise to come out of him was a sharp gasp as soon as he felt something wrap around his sides in an embrace from behind.

"Well, mainly _me_..." Two long legs made a settled knot around Ash's body, as Luong slithered onto the pretty boy's back, looking surprisingly well despite having taken part in a fight nearly an hour before; a losing effort, no less.

Ash never even bothered to notice the door on the other side of the bar room opening, as his mind was very clearly focused on Shermie and his internal fantasies about her – it was a welcoming surprise to be sure.

Shermie cared enough to explain shortly, "Really, it's more because I wanted to do _someone_ a favor..."

As can be seen, Luong's boundaries of respecting personal space seemed pretty non-existent at the moment, especially when it came to fulfilling her lust – she spent more than enough time gazing into the eyes of Ash, as well as the French flamer's hair, his intriguingly eccentric style choice, and his pale, freckled pigmentation. She was so close on his neck that her breath started to tickle at it... "Certainly an interesting look for a guy such as you..."

Luong's gaze fell deeper down as her feet smoothed out against Ash's pants – with precise movements and adjustments, pinching at the belt between her toes, the Viet babe did her best to keep her position while undressing the young man, with zero resistance out of him.

Within seconds, Ash's full-mast erection was unveiled out into the open, prompting a giggle of fascination from Shermie as she saw Luong's eyes lock near-permanently on the penis pointing straight into the ceiling.

Luong came close to drooling already. "...I think we can make this work."

Her feet continued to fondle the hard rod of flesh that greeted her back with beckoning throbs, and an increment of precum that was more than welcoming to the 'favor' going down – it could very well go beyond this...

Ash nodded shakily as he melted to the Taekwondo temptress' whim, "I think so too..."

For the first time meeting this newcoming seductress, it was probably about to be the best time spent with her as one as horny as him could get could imagine.

* * *

Mamahaha finally found her way back to her owner, safely dropping the bag that carried Love Heart's belongings right in front of her as she nested on the waiting arm of Nakoruru.

"Good work, Mamahaha!" Nakoruru nuzzled the beak of her pet, congratulating the efforts.

Even though it seemed like a simple retrieval attempt that succeeded, it took a little bit of planning to figure out the best method of recapturing the stolen luggage from the perpetrator's hands – all that could be gathered in a way to catch wily Malin's scent was the smoke bomb. There was plenty more to the method, but in short, Mamahaha was not like the usual bird companion.

" _Nako'!_ "

Nakoruru recognized the voice coming her way, and turned around to greet back. "Oh, Love Heart! Pardon me, I was a little too busy to catch up, how was your... match...?"

Being more than a little out of the loop with Love's efforts up to now in the tournament, Nako was taken aback to see Love in the costume Athena enlisted for her, with the messy result of the battle shown on top of that; with fabric burnt, torn and mostly no longer there, Love Heart just _looked_ like she had the worst day out of everyone else in the mansion, and there was no close contest for it.

Nako felt awful even looking at the results of chaos shown on her friend's whole body. "Oh... not well, I assume?"

"I want to go back to the skies. _Now._ " Love needed not to speak any more or any less, and her eyebrows curved with a highly displeased expression.

"Hmm? Now? Pardon me, I'm... a little lost on why you'd think that – after so much experience seeing the world, from what I can assume you've taken one loss here, in this little tournament, and now you're just done for?"

What Nako said rolled around in Love's head and was flattened out by her response. "No. This isn't just about me losing. In fact, that's the _least_ of what's happened with me; I've been violated this morning, beyond all means, to the point where not even a full shower has kept me clean; my clothes and sword were stolen along the way, leaving me in just a towel entrapping what little dignity I still held dear; I was asked to fight in a match against someone with familial and supernatural connections that have definitely left me way out of her league; I've been nearly burnt to a crisp thanks to that fight, burning away what was left of my hope to enjoy; and on top of that, this costume _is not helping with anything!_ "

Love's lost control of volume to her vented-aloud frustrations made even Mamahaha cower a little, and Nako felt more and more bad with how much more she heard.

After a moment to breathe and calm herself, Love spoke up once more. "One more thing; what the hell is with that bag?"

Nakoruru was hesitant to answer – everything else of what Love talked about was still being established. "...It's your clothes. I got them back for you."

Love snatched the heavy bag swiftly. "Good – then I won't look like I walked through hell when I'm back where I belong."

"...I should've stayed by your side more. Forgive me for being so neglectful to your troubles. Nature falls so close to my heart sometimes..."

Love made it well sure of her ultimate dissatisfaction with Earth, with her blunt retort, "Sometimes you may want to admit Mother Nature isn't always by your side. I sure as hell don't follow her – my life is the clouds, and the deep blue of the sky. It's where I'm meant to be. You'll help me get back there, right?"

Nakoruru realized fully what little choices there were to make Love happy again. In fact, there was barely a choice, not even a grain of rice in the idea of a decision other than what the sky pirate wanted of her. One's life has one's desires, after all.

Nako sighed... "If it's what you want..."

* * *

"Feelin' better, Malin?"

"I dunno, B'. Is this what a 'hangover' really feels like?"

"Oh, totally not. That's for _tomorrow_ morning."

"Aw, fuck..."

Still near the premises of the bar room, Jenet was comforting her younger partner and helping her relax as the intoxicated feeling unwinded and started to fade – though not without a little bit of endurance against the aftereffects of the drink leaving the system.

"B'? Can I ask you somethin'?"

"Hmm? Yeah, what's up?"

"...Did I do good out there?"

"Well... on account of the plan being to get you laid – you failed. And also considering this burn mark he gave you, it's a bloody fail _and a half._ " Jenet made sure to feel only around and not directly upon the red mark of hopefully nothing beyond a 1st degree burn on Malin's left shoulder.

Malin whimpered like the unfortunate failure she was on this day – she wanted to moan Ash's name and vice versa by the end of the day, but all there was, was just his moaning.

...

...Wait a minute.

Just faintly heard from the distance from the bar room, Malin's ears caught noises she spent her daydreams thinking and hoping about – Ash's lip-bitten noises and whimpers, very clearly not triggered by her own doing.

"...What's _that_?"

"Oh, it's nothin'." Being able to peek out over the doorway still, Jenet was a little more aware of what was going on, from the brief bits she saw here and there over the past couple minutes. "

"Seems like a hell of a lot more than 'nothing' to me." Malin sprung up with newfound life in her curious little body. "Lemme see."

Jenet found massive struggles keeping Malin held down in her arms, almost immediately. "No, don't fuckin' worry about it~"

"Oh, I'm totally worrying right now!" Malin swatted Jenet away with one lucky slap and scampered out over the doorway.

Although she wasn't able to make out _all_ of the details of what was going on, the manic thief girl was able to recognize the borderline-pornographic scene going on in there.

"Oh, no _fucking_ way...!"

* * *

"Fuck, I'm– hnnngh, _ahhh~!_ "

With one more tight squeeze from within the almost-bare heels of Luong's feet, Ash was allowed the release of his sensual stress, and it unloaded spectacularly beyond his accomplished moans.

Splattering out forwards and upwards from where he sat, Ash's cum fired away at its own throbbing whim in the direction of the spectating Shermie – the initial spurt went almost halfway across the room, a good half of the white sticky rope painting an unstraightened line down from the French redhead's hair to her face, ending at her mouth and chin. Most of the following spurts, upon the settling of Ash's cock from its full-mast stance, dribbled vigorously into the glass of wine in Shermie's hands, the white liquid mixing with the sweet red.

The soaring squirts of relief flung across the room, nearly to the point of splatting against the ceiling, proved a euphoric sight for Luong as she too bore witness from behind her target of pleasure – she hoped for some of the white rain to come down towards her way, but at least she could take heart to what she could salvage of the decent amount that laid all over her feet.

Luong giggled, continuing to fondle about the half-erect cock between her feet as the sweet cum swam all over it. "My-my~ you certainly have a _spirited_ drive."

Shermie nodded. "Even _I_ wonder how much frustration he's built up over the years." She was looking down at her drink, as the splurts of cum within the glass settled into it – not quite a mixture you'd see on a usual day...

She took the drink to her mind so much that the consideration of the idea, and her ultimate decision to sip the cum-soaked wine, was all she could think upon. Not quite a lot of the taste of the semen, very clearly overpowered by the flavor of the sweet grape substance, but the combination of textures between the thin but swimming and the thick and sticky was most interesting.

Meanwhile, Luong's feet finally departed from the presence of Ash's twitchy, still slightly erect cock. "It's not often I get into action like this – even back home with my love..."

Her 'love'? "Pardon me... are you married or something?" asked Ash. Not quite the most supportive of helping in a potential adultery, but he was curious to giving the question.

"Not quite – more of a current fling. I'm not his first, but I'm by far his best," Luong answered. "It's quite all right, though – it's not like he's gonna see anything." The benefits of Elisabeth's devotion to keeping privacy were more than one would believe...

Ash felt the minimal space he had to share become free again as Luong stepped away from behind his back. All the while, his eyes were caught for a little longer as he watched Shermie partake in a little more of the cum-soaked wine; she even gestured the glass out towards him, allowing him a sip of the intriguing mixture.

Not bad.

Then Shermie, without any more of a need to speak up, gestured towards what was behind Ash, and he turned around...

…to see Luong laid on her stomach across the table, her hands tearing into her skintight pantyhose to unveil her butthole to him in a truly attractive offering.

"So, care to take me?"

Almost instantly, Ash's member was given a second breath of erect life.

* * *

Malin quivered on her stomach as she watched what went down, and was nearly rendered to a drooling mess already when she saw the fountain of cum fire across the room, the farthest end managing to splatter the wall just a short crawl away from where she was.

Even B. Jenet was rendered nearly speechless by the millage of Ash's load. "Jesus Christ; he's got some jumpy swimmers in there, I'll admit that."

Malin wasn't paying attention to what her friend was saying, as she was already overtaken by her urges.

Jenet noticed this soon enough, seeing one of Malin's hands inside her shorts, shifting around in where her most sensitive parts tightly clung within.

"Fuck's sake, Malin, _right in front of me?_ "

"Shh! I'm not gonna lay here with female blue balls!" Malin had a couple fingers digging into herself straight away, the growing squelching only slightly audible underneath her spats.

The devotion in Malin's fingers riddling around beneath her shorts left B. Jenet surprised, and yet also fascinated. "For a girl like you that I've met for a couple days, you've been oddly persistent with your sex drive."

"A girl's gotta dream – _hwmmm~_ " Malin's reasoning was briefly cut off by a sting of pleasure, "and my dreams about him happen to be _real_ wet."

"Another thing, Malin?"

Malin sighed pleasurably upon a hard clench upon her pussy, regaining composure before long. "Ahhh... yeah?"

"Your finger work looks like it's _very_ inconsistent,"

Malin almost couldn't figure out a response to that brief critique from the pirate in royal purple. "Well, what would you consider – you helping me out or something?"

If only Malin knew what ran through Jenet's mind at the moment, because that could easily be arranged...

* * *

Meanwhile, the threesome of fuckery was reaching its way into a level like none before.

Ash was positioned atop the table, right behind Luong's prone and presenting body; with nothing but the moisturizing substances of his salivation and his leftover cum to keep it slick and steady for penetration, his cock was already firmly pressed at its head against Luong's hole, which was clenching and unclenching as though it was gasping out for something to fill the void.

The struggle to make entry into the leggy beauty's ass was far more real than Ash initially understood, being generally inexperienced in the art – as he pressed forward, the tip of his cock sank against Luong's asshole with only a slow, anticipating effort that almost made the young man impatient with the difficulty in speeds beyond what was possible to ease in.

Watching on closely from the side of the table, Shermie examined the struggling efforts in Ash's penetration attempt, and made some assurance for her fellow babe. "He's still very much a rookie; don't try to look down on him if he's having trouble 'getting in'."

Luong smiled back. "That's perfectly fine – I rarely let anyone in my ass like this unless I _really_ want it..."

Shifting herself backwards, Luong pressed her ass against Ash's member, allowing an inch more of him to make his way into her butthole with significantly more ease than before. So warm and so wet was the cock burrowing into her, even with only the first two inches of her sex partner within her so far.

On the other hand, Ash was already battling the urge to lose himself and his load in the rear of the receiver, but his efforts were all too much for him to give in now. Crawling up on Luong's back and letting his hips guide further forward against her rear, he managed to gather a couple more inches of his hard, bold meat into her ass. By this point, the friction and resistance were just starting to settle out in the interlink of flesh, and Ash found it a little bit easier to navigate himself farther into the tight rosebud hole of the tempting Vietnamese belle.

Luong's bewitching giggles and moans proved the perfect background noise to the loving penetration she took with grace. "Hehehe~... _mmmmn_ , that's it... nice and easy..."

Her hips wriggled around against the table, with the cock tailing partway into her hole joining suit to further entice Ash's efforts to the irresistible charm – he allowed himself to get lost in the temptation, and mindlessly managed to sink even more of himself until he was almost fully within Luong's ass.

Shermie kept a close eye on the scene before her, such deviant intrigue in her mind as she watched her lover work his slick dick within the tightness of Luong's delicate and welcoming hole; she kept close proximity to the action as she witnessed Ash start to commit to proper thrusts in and out of their third-party vixen's rear, slowly and steadily keeping to the right rhythm to benefit everyone involved.

With one hand holding her phone near and dear towards the action, and the other burrowed beneath her skirt, Shermie was already more than satisfied with the work Ash was starting to put in, in his first go at anal.

* * *

Malin asked, "Hey, B', uh... quick question?"

"Yeah, what's up?"

"You wouldn't mind... playing a little bit with my butthole, would ya?"

Jenet was a little unpleased to answer. "I... would've though we'd just be getting straight to vag' business?"

"Kinda don't remember talking about that stuff – besides," Malin reared her head towards the action going on within the bar table. "I think Ash is pounding _that_ chick's butthole right about now, and I don't wanna feel left out."

"Not like it's gonna fill out any better – all I got's my fingers to help ya jill off..."

"I'll take what I can get – hopin' to impress _you_ in return with what _I_ can do." Malin's tongue ran wild before even getting into contact with anything.

As can be deciphered, things took a turn for Jenet and Malin that neither of them went into the day expecting.

The musty air full of sex and debauchery finally clung onto their senses by this point like an airborne disease, and now they were piled atop one another, in a 69 position, to help deal out each other's frustrations.

After a little bit more rustling around each other, B. Jenet had lifted up Malin's skirt, taking position on top. "Have you ever licked someone's pussy before? Cause I'm not convinced you haven't been any closer than this." The slightly audible flickering of Malin's tongue rung out enough to Jenet to make her unsure if it was a genuine attempt or just trying too hard.

Malin clapped upon Jenet's thighs in offense. "S-shut up! I've totally tasted pussy!" Her hands were just inches from feeling about the mountainous curves of the pirate Brit's buttocks by this point.

"Pussy that isn't your own after ya flick your own bean, you mean?"

As soon as Jenet retorted with that, Malin thrusted her lips forward and gave a quick but strong sucking kick upon her partner's crotch, eliciting a startled gasp of pleasure while enticing a slight bit more of the pussy fluids that beckoned more action.

"As a matter of fact, _yes._ " With that quick feat, Malin couldn't be called out as a liar after that, now wouldn't she?

One of Jenet's hands toyed with her thong, pulling it out of position. "Ugh... forget I asked – just try not to bite..."

Upon saying this, she sunk her hips down against the floor, smashing her snatch down onto Malin's face and giving her as much access as she wanted – while she pulled Malin's waist upwards with the mild strength of her hands beneath the younger dame's shorts and went to town with both hands tackling down the holes with all her sensual might.

"Mmmph!? _Hmmmmfmkh~!_ " Malin's moans were suppressed under the grinding efforts of Jenet, and her body shuddered within her pirate partner's clutches before long.

* * *

Ash was making swift progress with his probing voyage, now that he powered through the friction and was able to consistently thrust in and out of Luong's ass with less resistance than ever before. His spit and semen proved decent as a jumpstart to get him entry, and now the slickness between his cock and her hole laid naturally

Shermie continued to keep close to the anal ritual, her phone acting as the catalyst to memories to be recorded for further endless uses – considering her other hand spent its time glistening itself upon her excited slit, one wouldn't need to take a guess of how she'd enjoy herself over the footage in the future.

From how Ash was asserting his position over Luong as he was prodding deep into her ass, he grew to put his heart and soul into the performance before his lover at the sidelines – his breath grew shorter over the stamina-taxing movements, and his enticed laughter didn't help him over on that.

"Fuck, keep it going, babe," proclaimed Shermie, taking all the enjoyment she can in being the camerawoman to the desires going on before her. "You're an artist at your craft right now..."

"If this is what you consider art, then I'm all over that idea..." Ash almost neglected his love's comments over the fascination of Luong moaning beneath him.

"Just let me know when you're about to cum – I want to get closer when you unload..."

Ash's plotting, dirty grin grew. "As you wish..."

He gathered himself two handfuls of Luong's ass, kneading her down and spreading her cheeks as he focused primarily in his shifting shaft gaping her pucker. His pace quickened a slight as he approached the climax without too much of a hurry...

The downward thrust did double on Luong's endorphins of pleasure, feeling a wall of her pussy get lightly prodded inwards on the deepest of thrusts.

"Mmmm, yes~ that's the hot angle right there..." Luong hummed confidently while she started to bring a hand onto her unpenetrated slit. "Keep it up, boy, and you just might make _me_ cum too..."

"If that's what you want, then I'll gladly make you melt with passion." Ash acted in turn, bringing just a little bit more of his length out before re-entry, and keeping up on the speed as his thrusts grew longer and deeper against his enlisted sex partner.

Within just a couple minutes, the rise before the burst could be sensed easily between the two of them – Ash felt Luong's supple rear quake slightly as her whole body quivered closer to her orgasm, and his own manhood started to approach its own eruption point.

If he wanted a finish to this passionate ritual, it'd have to be something spectacular for all parties to enjoy in one swoop... Retracting out almost fully, Ash left the tip laying at Luong's entrance... and then made a full-length plunge right down to the base!

"Aah, f-fuck~!" Luong ultimately drenched her working hand in the clear fluids unleashed from her pussy, making an artful splatter across the bar table beneath and behind her.

All the while, her butthole clenched the hardest it ever did throughout the whole, and with Ash very deep within her at the moment, a chain reaction was guaranteed.

Shivering under a brief spurt of pleasure on her own, Shermie kept close to the joined hips and glutes between the two before her, as all thrusts and other subtle movements in the sex simply stopped with little warning, and she panted with such sensual glee as she caught even the slightest details of the Taekwondo babe's flowing love juices flooding the table under her active fingers.

The last of the three to give in to the climax, Ash finally succumbed to the overwhelming delight in his loins – he could barely even scream out behind gritted teeth, opting to groan as he produced his seed within Luong's ass. He enjoyed feeling the cum spray wildly within the walls of her tight little hole – and it fired away like a special gun, to the point where he almost caused an overflow of white in her ass. Sliding out halfway, his cock visibly quaked as it continued to pump, and his stamina pumped down in accordance to his spurting loads.

" _Mon dieu, mon amour –_ you're truly giving your heart and load to this~" Shermie counted a good twenty throbs from the pulsating cock before her, keeping the camera of the phone as close to the orgasmic finale as she could.

As soon as the mushroom tip of Ash's deflating manhood finally exited, Luong's pucker spurted slightly with the white juices that, outside of the little bit emerging from her hole, were kept tightly locked within her like an heirloom she would not want to let go.

"So, how does it look?" Luong asked beneath her heavy breathing, spreading her cheeks towards the French beauty beside her to show off the perfect creampie within her ass. "Something worth keeping to heart?"

Shermie's tongue almost ran on its own against her lips as she observed the cum-laced hole. " _La perfection._ It's exactly as I expected out of this."

The sudden thud and clattering of furniture beside her was _not_ what she expected, however – and she jumped a little bit, only recognizing Ash's fatigued person on the floor a moment after what had happened.

Outside of her line of sight ( _however it could be beneath the bangs_ ), Ash had basically fallen off the table, unfortunately taxed on his stamina.

"Ah _merde!_ " Shermie came down to her knees, bringing herself over as she allowed him something comfortable to cling onto. "Are you okay?"

If the simple lack of breath didn't knock him out, colliding with the stools besides the table and the hard wood floor definitely would've – and even then, he was luckily still very conscious, though too exhausted to move.

The expression on his face was laced with plenty of things, whether it was pain from the tumble, exhaustion from the explosive orgasm or just plain satisfaction that he was given the chance. However, outside of all of that, there was a feeling within the pit of his stomach that stood out at odd against his very being...

"Weak... Why do I... feel so weak?" Ash was so conflicted with himself at the moment that even potential tears could be of uncertain emotions at the moment.

"Don't focus on that, baby," Shermie assured as she scooped up her lover into her arms – kind of an intriguing image, though she found no trouble with the weight on her arms as she kept Ash close.

"You've given so much – maybe too much – to what I wanted out of you. For that," she opened a giggling smile across her face. "I shouldn't do any less than respect your desire."

Ash managed to find the strength to smile back. "I guess maybe I'm just that damn good, then."

"Absolutely. Plus... you still seem a little hard there." Shermie could tell Ash's cock still had a tad bit left in the tank as it stood slightly stiff still above his unfastened pants – she nuzzled it a little and even licked it a couple times to rouse him, and came out of the taste test on a positive note. "Even tastes pretty nice, too."

Luong's voice rung out in turn. "I was hoping you'd say that, milady..." Faint spurts were heard coming her way...

She was reclining on the table now, her rear pointing over the edge with a martini glass held underneath as she confidently voided her butt of the settled cum in her hole, allowing the clear white ( _and thankfully no less dirty_ ) liquid to fill a decent section of the glass – she was pouring herself a 'drink', but certainly not the kind one would easily find at the bar.

Luong then took a sip of the anal creampie martini, basically fortifying her completely and utterly shameless claims with a regal stride. "Never you mind where it's been – I'm just curious to _your_ enjoyment..."

* * *

" _G'haaaa~!_ "

Malin could feel her heart in her throat as she pulsated across her body, her orgasm rupturing throughout into an ending within her shorts – most of her face was glistening thanks to the orgasmic liquids of the hands-down hotter lady on top of her from an orgasm that occurred just moments before. Surprisingly, Malin had the messier orgasm, having a safe basket to splurt into, in the form of her form-fitting shorts, and if Jenet ever had something equally as chaotic, it'd probably give her pinkeye somehow – she didn't know if it could happen with cum or fluids alike, but she would've been worried regardless.

Speaking of, B. Jenet felt as though she was particularly more dirty than usual as she fingered her partner to the very finish, even with the growing exhaustion anchoring her down. She panted, fighting her body through the afterglow to get the job done, and her hands remaining underneath Malin's shorts must've felt especially disgusting.

As JEnet's wettened hands escaped her shorts, Malin's body fully met the floor as she panted with relief.

"Jeez... tha' was pr'tty awesomw," Malin attempted to speak, regardless of how utterly exhausted she felt, and it almost sounded as though she got even _drunker_ afterwards. "B', _please tell muh_ , did it look a' good as it felt?"

Jenet was still panting a little by this point, but was much more capable of talking in post-orgasm as her partner. "I dunno... you just... straight up look like you pissed all over yourself – can't really tell stains apart with pitch-black spats, now can you?"

Malin's hands slapped Jenet's butt again. "Ah, fuh'ck yooouu, man..."

Jenet rubbed her behind briefly, tanking the sharp pain decently. "Well... what's done is done... I suppose... not like we were expecting all o' this." She was prepared enough to just stand up and leave, with one more thing still left on her ( _and likely also Malin's_ ) mind. "Now what the hell was up with that bird?" _Thankfully the best idea to find the answer would be to scroll up a couple scenes earlier in the chapter, but she, nor anybody else in particular in the story, wouldn't know that, now would she?_

To sum things up for these first hours of the day; in the end, a lot of fantasies were fulfilled this afternoon, some greater than others. The day was far from over – hell, the morning was only freshly over by this point – and with love flourishing through here and there, there was plenty more war in the mansion to go...

* * *

 **So a lot of cumming was accomplished, to put it bluntly. I'm expecting the next chapter to also not be so huge, but given the scenes I wanna cover, I might somehow make an even bigger chapter than this one. Either way, this will be it for July, and I might as well just take a day or so off from writing.**

 **Next Chapter:** **A little bit of focus on the competitors of the next match to come, alongside a retread on others still hanging around with plot threads to open / close / just plain fiddle with.**


	34. INTERLUDE: We All Go A Little Mad

**With the previous chapter, comes another couple of records for my FFN career, freshly shattered: most reviews (** _ **79 as of writing, a couple more than Tournament of Fate Act 1's 76 reviews**_ **) and biggest story done (** _ **about 3000 words more than FanFiction Royal Rumble III's 110K**_ **). Even I'm surprised with the dedication I've put to the story so far...**

 **...That's pretty much all I have to say, short and simple.**

 **Enjoy, folks.**

* * *

 _I spent so long away from it all. Life was so calm when I breezed through the roads, wind in my hair, on my skin, feeling free from it all._

 _Free from the responsibility._

 _Free from the curse._

 _At least that was what I thought. The one day I decided to put my fists and flames to the test, it came back around._

 _Those Orochi sluts, the moment they came here, it all turned to hell. Always trying to do what they think is the right way of life. Might as well put Shermie there with them with how damn handsy she's been getting – and god know what's up with her new boyfriend, or whatever the fuck that French weirdo's got to do with her..._

 _I used to think it was just something I can seal off in the deepest corner of my head._

 _Now they just won't go away._

 _They won't go away._

 _They won't._

 _Go._

 _ **AWAY—!**_

* * *

Flames spiraled out in all angles as they cracked against an unfortunate wall, victimized by a single embered fist of Aoi that nearly broke through every layer between the surfaces of drywall.

"Aoi!"

From the moment they agreed on being roommates for the tournament, Moe Habana had the sneaking feeling something was going to take a toll on Aoi, especially after their initial talk.

Now she had to calm her down, help mend the tensity in the Kusanagi rebel's fists before things get worse. All this didn't help one bit with her time here; she just wanted to surf through as much of the tournament as she could without drama spreading to her end.

"Please, _breathe,_ " Moe suggested. She was doing as much as she could, but Aoi's arms struggled away from her hands.

"Don't you think I'm trying?" ranted Aoi. "I just wanted to throw a few fists, have a couple laughs over the losers, but then _those bitches_ came around to be the smoke in my lungs...!"

She retreated from the wall that was now imprinted with the knuckles of her burning fist, and refuged herself to her bed. When a hand of hovered to her shoulder in an attempt of assurance, Aoi slapped it away.

Moe recoiled in worry. "Jeez. In the fight, you seem pretty focused. Then I see you sitting here, and I see something... something completely different."

"Too different – and sometimes I wish it wasn't." The neuroticism in Aoi was starting to get to that point where it almost seemed like a permanent fixture on her mind.

All she could think of was ways to beat the asses of Vice, Mature and even Shermie and Ash just to be safe – and she started to feel uncomfortable in her motorcycle bodysuit, as if it felt a size below how she felt it, to the point where she peeled off the semi-unzipped top half of it and left the unworn leather hanging at her hips.

Every piece of negativity in her head, little or big, was clinging onto her like a spider eager to bite but never doing so, leaving her paranoid too often to be comfortable.

"Sometimes I just want to actually be normal again," said Aoi, her hands buried into her hair as she looked down at the floor. "Sometimes, I just... _urgh,_ I just wanna put them down, but I know they'll just come back up!" She was ready to swing a fist here and there, choke a bitch somewhere in between, but all she could do was swing out at the air.

Moe had to crouch over and keep Aoi steady. "Look, I dunno what you want me to do! You know this stuff better than I ever would!"

"I know way too fucking much, Moe!" said Aoi. "I know you could never catch up... but..."

She glanced at the window at first, taking a brief gander at the sunlight peering in. "But..." She turned to the other side of the room once she heard the thump of a doorknob bumping a wall.

The door was opened, and Leona stood at the doorway. Physically and mentally, she looked no worse coming out of her round-2 starter against Mai than she did coming _in_ to it.

The interlocking stare between the stoic soldier and the flame-bearing biker drowned out everything else around them, in both sound and physicality – it felt like an eternity within a minute.

Then Aoi scrambled past Moe and tumbled straight into Leona's arms – she could tell they both were thinking towards the same well of hell, somehow. Almost like they were kindred spirits, in a way.

"I don't know what to do," Aoi consulted, almost muffled against Leona's neck as she struggled in succession against the frustrated tears that tried to escape her ducts.

Despite the usual stoicness in Leona's expression, it could still be recognized as someone who didn't want to share the pain with another.

She eventually answered...

"There's only one thing you can do. You can keep fighting. Even if it hurts you... or someone you know and love."

As Aoi separated her face from Leona's body, tiny wet marks of those struggled tears were visible on the Ikari Warrior's chest. Aoi gathered her hands together briefly only to retract them and examine them separately.

The two tones of flames were again in her hands, providing the yin and yang to what could become her self-destruction if she ever considered giving in to the discourse and insanity of 'Gaia's Will'.

Aoi clenched her hands back into fists – while she wasn't fully determined to the cause, she saw only one path through this tournament.

"I guess I don't have a choice _but_ to fight... Until I see them put back down where they belong."

Fittingly, thanks to Leona, it was 1 for 3 due to Mature's first-round failures. Best idea would be to hope for the best that the rest of the Hakkesshu representation fall the same way before the tourney's end...

* * *

A period of meditation. A gentle musing. A voyage within one's self.

Call it what you would, it was the central idea of Mignon's pre-match ritual – to basically pray away her fear with a bit of witch's intuition.

Sitting in the center of her accommodation, her legs pretzeled around each other Indian-style, she was before a mirror reflecting back at her the expression of focus on her face and the small lit candles encircled besides her ( _around a small enough size for a single one to be held nicely in her palm_ ), bringing such a strawberry aroma. Her wrist/ankle-worn orbs had the collective pink glow of promise, enticed by the heart-shaped symbol on the wall around the mirror, drawn in her spare amounts of lipstick and makeup.

To her, the potential mess that someone would have to clean up once she eventually leaves after the tournament's end didn't really matter – it'd be worth it by the time her methods of self-collection...

...If only she was without interruption.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

As though fate consistently rung the 'rivals' into the presence of one another throughout the proceedings of this whole tourney, Athena's appearance at the doorway deeply intruded Mignon's focus.

In the interest of fairness, it probably wasn't the most embarrassing thing Mignon was caught doing – didn't stop her from forcing the door closed with a slight gust of wind summoned out at it.

Athena soon had the door re-opened mere seconds later, not done just yet with things. "You know, you can lock your door if you don't want anyone seeing you."

Mignon's optimism waned. "There's also such a thing as knocking – take a word from Mignon, and try it some time."

Athena retorted back, "The door was _wide open;_ kind of a bit extra to knock when someone's already got a way in. Besides, between you and I, you probably deserve having someone barge in during your private life."

A thrown candle bounced, followed by Mignon's frustrated form angrily strutting towards the door. "No, I don't! You're always wrong! Get out of Mignon's face!"

"I wasn't in your—ow!" The door slammed harder on the Psycho Soldier's face than before, and she and her grunt of pain was ultimately sealed off by the door.

"Her and her scampy schoolgirl uniform... she doesn't know class like I do..." Mignon dusted off her gloved hands and began to reapproach her mirror, her 'groove' temporarily thrown off. "Maybe _now_ I can keep my peace and quiet."

Her eyes closed for a moment as she came back to her seat in front of the mirror. When she opened them, she quickly, and horrifically, realized the sinister, colorless reflection of Ninon staring back.

" _Not while I'm around, dear sister._ "

The mirror was quickly rendered to shards by Mignon's panicking fists slamming into them. Surprising effort on her part with managing to smash the glass with a single thrust – though she similarly succeeded in messing her hands up a fair bit; less on the accumulated lacerations of which there were luckily very few, and more on the impact of punching the wall alongside it.

"Rrgh, ouchie-wowch~" Mignon muttered achingly as she dealt with the pain.

Though she could willingly cope for a few seconds and try and carry on with her meditation without the reflection, she grew to realize her blood was quickly rendered cold as she felt the personal 'inner demon' in the form of her dark-lolita sister still haunted her...

"I suit that better than a simple 'Hello', you know," said Ninon, her presence fading back in this time behind her colorful sister. "It's what I know you the most as – spastic and forever the problem child."

Mignon quivered with puzzled aggravation. "Problem child? If there's anyone with a problem, it's you being so persistent! You weren't invited, why can't you get over it?"

"Only because you can't get over the idea of Athena being a willing rival to you," Ninon responded. "Or the idea that you can get over your fears by praying to whatever god to your choice."

Mignon's arms crossed meekly as she nearly stuttered over her snide retort. "M-Mignon is only afraid of losing! It's just that simple!"

Ninon shook her head. "The only thing Mignon is afraid of, is the 'Angel of Death'. She's scared because she may face the same fate at the hands – or in the case of an earlier match – within the _bosom_ of someone she can't admit is a superior fighter in all attributes."

Next thing known, the door to the room swung open the wrong way, nearly breaking off as Mignon rammed Ninon against the wall adjacent, with two handfuls of frills off of the latter's black dress.

"Then why can't you let me deal with my fears here _without_ breathing down my neck?! You think Lady Blanctorche doesn't see you're trespassing on her property!?"

"Believe it or not, she actually doesn't," Ninon matter-of-factly responded, unsurprisingly calm despite the abuse taken. "I'm technically not even here to anyone's eyes other than yours; one reason is that I can respect Elisabeth's efforts just as long as I can find a way around it."

Mignon continued to throttle around her sister against the wall. " _One_ reason? What other reasons could there be?!"

" _Hmmm_ ~?"

Hearing the confused squeak of someone beside her, Mignon turned her head away from her sister's sight.

To the left of her were Kula and Diana; the ice doll, with a mouthful of her rainbow-swirl lollipop, looked silently perplexed by the sight of what was going on before her, and the rapier-wielder just looked ready to chuckle as though in her eyes, it just looked like someone acting like a dumbass in front of her.

Diana asked, "Pardon me for asking, but... who are you even talking to?"

Mignon glanced back towards the wall at her sister, growing increasingly disconcerted. Ninon just looked back with a cocksure grin, looking entertained by what was starting to go down.

"Y-you don't see her? Mignon's basically got her by the throat!" To the witch, yes, this was essentially the sight _she_ personally had.

In the NESTS agents' eyes, however, Mignon was holding onto _nothing_ , nothing other than the wall. In short, to the world outside her own mind, she was starting to look as though her sanity was cracking. Plus, the 'by the throat' comment in the ears of others sounded kind of demented, digging that hole just a little more.

Diana eventually turned to look at Kula. "Be careful around her. Something tells me she's a bit unstable."

Mignon twitched with an aura of building frustration – she was eventually rendered speechless once the word 'unstable' bounced into her thoughts, and all she could do was squeak incoherently and gesture with her hand back and forth between the bullshit going on around her.

Before she could act out on anything, she found herself being handed a broken-off piece of Kula's lollipop. Even then, she still couldn't get a word out.

"Good luck with your match," said Kula, putting the remaining rest of her lollipop into her mouth before skating off with Diana.

The emotionally-withered Mignon was left standing like a distressed statue, with that significant piece of lollipop in her hand – which was quickly snatched out of her dainty gloves before she even bothered to look down.

Assuming the unlikeliness of her sister even bothering with the candy, Ninon chuckled with accomplishment as she held it away. "I don't even need to make an effort to be entertained – you do most of the work for me." The chunk of lollipop found its way into her mouth before her sister's.

And upon that first lick, there was a brief but palpable quake accompanied by an unwarned _**THWAM!**_

Ninon only acknowledged it as an intriguing sensation, and saw an arm – Mignon's right arm – buried elbow-deep in the wall just inches from her face.

Having just punched through plenty of things now, Mignon stood still with the fist through the hard plaster, shaking only so slightly as she kept her pose. Her expression seemed obscured by her punching arm in front of her face.

"Ninon?"

"Hmm?"

"I swear you would be more useful to me if I turned you into a rabbit – and then tested all my uncertain spells on you without concern for your endangerment."

"You seem angry, sis."

"Angry? Oh, no-no-no – I'm quite all right..." Mignon turned her eyes, unveiling a bit more of the look on her face.

Somehow, she was smiling. Though that's only what we'd see on the surface, because her tone only seemed like a fake sort of happiness.

"In fact, I think I'm more than 'all right'..." Her hand finally retracted, with a gloveful of dust caking her forearm now. Still she sounded so serene – _too_ serene for anyone else's safety, perhaps. "My fist need a face to touch really, _really_ hard – be glad it won't be yours."

She walked away, holding the closed, dusty fist dear and close to her face. Speaking of, something about the expressed emotions on her face read that it was far from how she felt on the inside, but it couldn't be certain.

What _was_ certain was the little smile that reformed on Ninon's face as she saw her sister slowly saunter away from her sight. That forced serenity she saw on her sister's face seemed all too amusing...

"That is a smile that can fool anyone... anyone but herself. Good luck... you _absolute idiot._ "

If this meant anything to Ninon, it was that she was going to enjoy seeing her sister inevitably suffer. It made the creepy smile almost grow to the point that the presence pretty much tore one door off its hinges.

Come to think of it, the dehinged door wasn't actually of her doing – she glanced back, mostly unflinched by the scenery falling apart behind her...

...and saw Sylvie stumble out, tied up in an entanglement of wires ( _somehow less gaudy on her than her actual attire_ ) and other things meant to bound her after what may have been the culmination of her harassment of Nagase. She looked ahead...

"Bibi _bi_? Who are you? Are you a ghost?"

Even someone so unsettlingly nihilistic as Ninon was caught offguard – even more because _how was she able to see her beyond the illusion spell?!_

The world may never know...

* * *

Once again, the infirmary was stocked up with ladies coping with the injuries of war.

Mai Shiranui, spiritually annihilated at the hands of Leona, having had major worries over physical scars received from the crackles and explosion endured on her body. Thankfully nothing beyond a spread-out amount of 1st degree burns that could easily be coped with.

Yuri Sakazaki, still very freshly fractured both physically and emotionally as a result of Angel's 'hands-on' approach to combat. The torn up leggings leaving nothing but exposure to her unmentionables could tell more of a story than just talking about it.

Alice Nakata, unfortunately succumbing to the toll taken on her broken ankle as a result of refusing further attention that would've helped her recovery process.

In the middle of it all, King was easily the most recovered of the bunch, coping well with the kneecap injury among other little cuts and bruises. Then again, she was the only one who didn't head into action today in some shape or form.

Even with the reunion factor; having to sit by the side, seeing all her close companions in a variety of bad conditions, was kind of a depressing sight.

King had a drink in her hand and a whole lot of silence that she eventually had to break "Y'know... when I wanted all of us to sit around and relax once we finished up this round... I kinda hoped it wasn't gonna be like this."

Yuri grunted briefly as she writhed over onto her other side on her bed. "I mean, what did you really expect? It's a tournament – people are bound to get hurt, and to lose. Sometimes _worse_ things happen..."

"And sometimes you just get really unlucky, like me," Alice additionally noted, wincing as her injured leg was kept roped semi-comfortably on the bed. Better safe than sorry, it looked like.

King sipped on her tidbit of light alcohol... "Honestly, I think I'm the luckiest of the bunch here." Not by a wide margin, though. She still had the shit kicked out of her by Lien back in the first round – not to mention she was the first of the four to get knocked out of the running in general.

Mai was fanning herself down as though her life depended on it. "I feel _I'm_ truly the luckiest – cause any other babe would be a bandage-wrapped mummy."

King glanced towards the sweaty kunoichi. "Too sexy to be scarred, eh?"

"Physically, maybe," noted Yuri. "Emotionally, probably a little rattled. She _still_ got off better than me though." The mangled mess of clothing on the karate girl spoke as enough evidence.

"Excuse me if I'm out of the loop – I was still pretty hazy during your match, feeling so raw. By the way..." Mai looked to the many-time teammate closer by her side. "King, you seem like you have nothing to do. I still got that honey in my room..."

"If you're asking me to give you a hand, thanks but no thanks. I know you tend to get _a bit too handsy_ yourself – take it from Yuri, she..." Recalling the karate girl's past experiences was a little bit rough for King, having to try her words in the most respectful way possible. "Unfortunately, she's probably _all too familiar_ with that sort of stuff by now..."

Yuri shuddered deep into her bed. "Please, I'd rather you _don't_ take it from me – besides, I've had enough girls trying to get in my butt this week..." That awkward mental wound was still a little too fresh for her to handle.

"I'll help you, Miss Shiranui." Standing by at one corner of the infirmary room, maid Iroha was as optimistic and willing as usual. "I'm good with massages – I've given plenty to my master back home."

"Oh yeah?" It may have been the lingering disorientation during the long recovery period after her staggering second-round loss, but Mai's smile grew three sizes under the idea of the similarly well-proportioned maid handling her.

From the assuring smile Iroha gave back, the feeling was definitely shared. However, her attention was caught by the wall-embeded pager buzzing out beside her.

"Hmm?" She set a finger on the button, though clearly a little reluctant due to the technology unfamiliar to her. "Can I help you?"

" _We have a competitor who's refusing medical attention,_ " rung out Chizuru's voice from the intercom." _Might need a little assistance over here._ "

"Oh! Right away, Ms. Kagura!" Iroha jumped to the opportunity to help, heading straight for the door. "Don't you worry, – I'll be right back."

The willing maid opened the door and scampered out of sight...

…

...and with that swift departure came the sly form of Lien Neville, her eyes and devious grin meeting the presence of the four ladies within – and vice versa with the team fiercely meeting back.

"Hello again."

The air in the room was cut away and replaced with tension as soon as Lien entered the fray – Mai, Yuri and Alice could only stare on in a mixture of fear and loathing from the 'comfort' of their beds, leaving King to approach with caution, sharing no good will with the woman that floored her in the first round. The advance was, however, a little halted by a flick of Lien's hand against King's chest.

"Oh, settle down, will you?" Lien scoffed. "I'm only here to see how the mighty have fallen – it doesn't concern you."

"I'm willing to take that risk," persisted King, "just to keep you from doing anything you might regret."

"And how did it work out the first time? If anything, _you'd_ have much to regret..."

"I can take a loss and still come out strong."

"Keep your hands to yourself and you _will_ stay strong." By here, Lien snuck past King's line of sight as she first came close to Mai's bed. "Unless you'd happy with having your own bed alongside your friends."

"Heh... if I were you, I wouldn't poke the wounded phoenix," suggested Mai from under her tender and pained breath.

Lien retorted, "At least I'd have more of a complete layer to handle the heat – unlike your shameless little getup."

Mai took into consideration the mostly unveiled rack of Lien's that was almost impossible to avoid, especially at the angle she stared up from. "Let's be honest, there's not a lot of shame between us."

"If that's true, then where do you think it'd lie? Within Yuri, perhaps?"

Upon hearing her name thrown into the discussion, the Kyokugen prospect felt the attention of the cold-hearted spy chill her body to a standstill. She shuddered under Lien's stare. "Please don't..."

"Don't worry, I got your back..." Or as close as Alice could get from her own bed without getting caught off by the binds keeping her foot attended.

"Sod off – no one cares about you," Lien bluntly snarked towards the Fatal Fangirl, now beside Yuri's bed. "And why should anyone care about _you_ either, Yuri?"

Yuri couldn't muster up much more to say. "I-I..." Her body crumpled in on itself into a loose fetal position as she looked away.

"Is it because, perhaps, you're still young and supple in the grim reality you call a fighting career? Or maybe..." The idea of boundaries slowly found its disappearance from the situation, as Lien rummaged a hand around Yuri's face, fondling a little bit of the fearful tears. "...maybe Angel didn't do enough with you to truly fuck your mind beyond repair?" Lien's hand graced lower against the victimized girl's body...

...And then she found herself hooked away by an arm wrapping around her gut – her self-defense kicked it and from her wrist-worn gauntlet, she quickly brandished a hidden switchblade and pointed it ahead...

...leaving it lingering mere centimeters from one eye of the growingly incensed King, who paid more attention to the remorseless assassin than the small but fresh cut that the blade made on her left cheek.

"And so the white knight rolls forth..."

King clutched a hand against the weapon-bearing hand of Lien, angling it away from her face. "I swear I'd kick through your chest if my legs could let me. I bet I wouldn't find a heart."

"Hmph – don't you know your boundaries?"

"Don't _you!?_ " This was ultimately the moment where King put her foot down. "Don't you know what she's gone through today? She damn near lost her innocence, and you're just gonna come in and piss on her while she's down?"

"If I can't outright leave someone dead in this place, I'll do my best to make people wish that was the better option than deal with me. I'll do it to any of you if I have to, and I'll do it to my opponent once she and I meet that inevitable path."

"And then what? Are you gonna take _her_ innocence just like what Angel did earlier?"

"Just so you know, I barely know her," noted Lien. "but from just this week alone, I know she can get the job done. That can't be said for everyone else in this room."

…

King's stare only grew sharper on her rival as she tried to keep her bearings in check. "Just... get out of here... before you start losing teeth under my heel."

Lien chuckled. "Get serious, bartender."

"In a moment like this, I'm the most fucking serious I can be."

"Doesn't sound like it." Lien began to back away, towards the door, as she concealed her switchblade back beneath her gadgetry and decided on depriving physical retaliation from the willing peers. "Try me when you _really_ can't hold back your fists any longer."

* * *

Lien left the scene unscathed and insolent, the way no one in the infirmary wanted her to leave.

With the beef with the Women Fighters Team locked away for now, all that was left for the assassin was to either wait for her odd and enigmatic opponent to come to her, or for the other way around if she needed to.

" _Does this seem like a girl that needs to heal up!?_ "

" _No! Get off of me!_ "

Out of the corner of Lien's eye was a very weird situation on the horizon...

After last seeing her head off for assistance on a development nearby in the mansion, Iroha had found herself getting entrapped in a regretless headlock by Angel, who surprisingly seemed energetic enough to lock the maid tightly in her grasp even though she was still battered and bloodied from many minutes ago.

"Miss Blanctorche and Miss Kagura won't be happy about this!" whined Iroha from within the stranglehold of the NESTS rebel.

"Both those _perras_ can suck a fat cock," Angel retorted. "They should know I do shit by my own book, and that doesn't include laying in bed with a bunch of losers!

The disrespect continued as Angel wiped some blood from her fucked head and started slapping upon Iroha's juicy butt with full and rapid force, painting an abstract red handprint upon it that grew and spread over time.

"Aah~! Please stop!"

"Now be a good little worker and tell Chizzy you failed, alright?" Pulling on the crane maid's thong, Angel tossed her forwards, sending her into the arms of Lien, who didn't quite know how to make of what she was seeing.

"You must feel gross right now, don't you?" asked Lien, garnering a nod from the startled Iroha. "Just go back in there and do your job."

As the fanservicey-dressed worker scampered back into the infirmary, Angel managed to catch eyes with Lien.

"What's up, _amiga?_ Don't think we've met, I think. Heard you're a pretty wild bitch yourself."

"I'll only be wild on you if you try any funny business with me." Even with being able to relish Yuri's suffering at the hands of Angel, Lien knew of the double-standard that could come to play if any feels were copped on her.

"Ah, no worries – we can respect each other's bodies when the time comes. Better shit to do, I know. Speaking of..." Digging into her cleavage, Angel's hand eventually resurfaced with what looked to be a pet collar, complete with a little cat-bell. "You're facing that Mignon chick this round, right?"

For a moment, Lien glared up to Angel with an intent to punch a face. "Are you taking the piss out of me right now?"

"I think you'd know if I was; look, I know a kitty-cat wannabe when I hear about one – if that chick wants to be a cat, she's gonna get treated like one. From seeing and hearing her make her business around her, you need to make that pussy suffer."

"No thanks. I'd rather be straightforward with my beatings." Lien grabbed the cat collar and tossed it over her head. "Though I can respect someone who often toys around with their opponent, I'm not so optimistic on the idea when it comes to just dealing with hatred upon another human being."

"Ah, I see what you're gettin' at – you're a subtle kind of evil bitch, aren't 'cha?"

"Just a woman on a mission, a mission which happens to be to make an example on anyone who vexes me."

Angel took a step forward, her closer proximity matching with the growing interest in her body. "I like the sound of that. And I like the sound of your voice – sexy and brutal."

Lien met on the idea, bringing herself a step closer on her own. "Probably not a good idea if you're trying to flirt – I can talk a man through their zipper if I need to, and just as easily I can make that man feel _less like one_."

"I can do that too – though I kinda prefer to use my teeth. If you wanna give me a try..."

"You might have to impress me further – very rarely does anyone get the chance.

"You're not saying 'no', though..."

"Not quite saying 'yes' either, now am I?"

By now, Lien and Angel were mere inches from each other's faces, and their splendid pairs wobbled and squeezed against each other. Angel's growing grin of dirtiness met with the unmelted ice-cold scowl of Lien, and their eyes stayed linked on each other like plugs to outlets.

…

"Okay we get it – _just kiss and get this shit over with!_ "

The two similarly lethal babes glared up to the ceiling upon the intruding sound-off of someone else. Nothing but ceiling – or at least that was how it was on the surface.

Though nothing tangible could be seen hanging around on the ceiling, Lien was persistent to the search, especially since she recognized the voice all too well.

"God damnit, Nagase, where are you?"

" _Ah fuck._ " The cover was far and beyond blown – and the young and sneaky bee-ninja soon decloaked, her person found facing against and the corner of the ceiling just near the doorway to the infirmary. Looking back, Nagase had a visible streak of pink blush above her nose, implying plenty of embarrassment on her part on top of the failed expression on her face. "I just want you to know, I wasn't doing anything!"

"Just shut up and come down here," Lien demanded, and Nagase followed, dropping down to the floor.

Angel was quickly caught at attention almost immediately by the look of Nagase, particularly the bee-stinger hairdo. "Nice hair."

Nagase nodded back. "Nice jacket. Fills you out." Her wandering glare on Angel's goods was quickly blocked out by Lien setting a hand against the wall with intent to interrogate.

"The hell are you doing here?"

"I've had a little Sylvie problem," answered Nagase. "Don't judge me for trying to cope with the lesser of two evils."

Attention bounced upon Angel as soon as Paula Paula was mentioned. "Sylvie, huh? She's a clingy little bitch – where'd you put her?"

"Nothing cool – storage closet."

"Ouch."

"Yep. As bland as she's ridiculous—" Right at the end of her sentence, Nagase was thrusted deeply back against the wall, as Lien slammed a hand against her throat and pinned her there.

"You really need to stop spying over my every move," Lien threatened. "It's not healthy, especially if you end up losing those eyes to an unhappy little 'accident'."

Nagase shrugged casually against Lien's threat. "I'll get new ones. Addes has my back. You just hate me for trying to be ahead of the pack."

"Oh, I hate you for a hell of a lot more than that..."

Standing before the bickering duo before her, Angel stretched around, seeming too much like a third wheel. "Yeesh – are you sure it's not you two who need to kiss?"

Lien nearly growled out in frustration as she glared at Angel – but the faint footsteps coming from the other side of the hallway eventually caught her attention. A figure coming out from the corner, crawling about yet also walking, creeping out with no hurry in pace as they stood by.

There was no mistaking Lien's recognition upon the sights – from the feline-like prowl and mannerisms, beyond what she could make out of the colors, she could tell...

The 'stray cat' named Mignon was approaching, and approaching at a risk.

And Lien smiled. Not because of the witch's amusingly prominent bravery, but because fun was about to be made from the eventual suffering.

As soon as she stared right back at Angel, she shoved Nagase aside, towards the NESTS babe. "Here. She's your problem now."

As she stumbled into Angel's close proximity, Nagase found herself starting to perk up to the idea of sharing time with this kind of lady, especially with her eyes meeting deeply into the heavy load that was Angel's chest. "I'm, uh... I'm actually kinda okay with this."

Angel smiled back. "So am I." She quickly scooped up the smaller malcontent into her arms. "We might wanna go – shit's about to go down." Then they zipped off...

Perfect – no more distractions. Now was the time for Lien to finally enact some (mostly unwarranted) hell on the one true annoyance of this whole tournament.

"You caught me at a bad time, Beart," Lien started. "I've been dealing with ladies who never knew how to shut up, up to the very last minute. Maybe it's a blessing – now I got even more of a reason to slam a fist into somebody's mouth."

She didn't hear anything out of Mignon from the other side of the confrontation – nothing to do with distance, the normally-plucky witch just had nothing to say – though her walking pace came forth to a little bit more speed.

"It's okay, darling – any last words before you face death in the eye are welcome..."

…

Still nothing heard from her opponent – so it was still fully up to Lien to handle the banter. "Maybe it's not what you want to say – maybe it's something you want to do. Whatever you want, just go ahead. If you have one trick up your sleeve before we again, I dare you to risk your life in trying it! I'll let you _one_ hit – _because it may be the only one you get._ "

Lien's arms stretched out to their sides, welcoming to the first strike she promised. "Be your own woman and just strike – me – _down._ "

The catsuit assassin seemed to be maybe too cocky to what she considered easy pickings – she opened herself up just in time to see the pinkette suddenly jump for the ceiling, swing from one of its studs...

...and clock her with a dropkick to the face!

It was a surprisingly fierce kick, too, as it sent not only Lien a reasonable distance away, but also a bit of blood straight out of her mouth and nose as her

Probably served her right for the underestimation – though she still wasn't threatened that much by the very unthreateningly-dressed witch even though she just nearly got her nose kicked off and was already seeping with a bit of blood down her face.

Looking at the dark red wiped onto one of her gloved fists, Lien smirked. "Not bad. I offered one hit and you did your damnedest to deliver..."

" _SHUT UP!_ " The very first words out of Mignon as the prelude to the match wound down were as shrill as expected; her anger was more apparent than the absolute cleavage of Lien's bodysuit. " _This is all your fault!_ "

Lien scoffed – technically the truth since she personally requested the match. "Tell me something I don't know—"

Mignon cut her off. "You don't know CRAP about what I've been going through!"

"Maybe I don't. You're seeing red, I bet."

"For a lot more reasons than you know Mignon for! Do you know what I've been going through ever since this match was made?!"

"No – because _I don't care._ "

Mignon stomped her foot down. "You should! Do you even know what it's like being pestered by this pesky little demon following you around, taunting you for being nothing?!"

"All too well, _you bratty pussycat._ "

"I'M NOT BRATTY! STOP CALLING ME BRATTY!" Mignon immediately came charging further in, swinging her arms like a kid in the midst of a tantrum as she tried to clobber recklessly.

 _SLAP!_

Mignon was sent backwards with one sharp slap out of Lien, who didn't break a sweat yet for the fight even with the near-broken nose seeking a little flood of red down her face.

"Are you going to fight like a woman or like a child?" asked Lien, just looking to officially start the fight. "Because you're going to lose the fight along with your mind if you keep this crap up..."

Lien followed up with a rough punting kick into the gut of her opponent, leveling the irate pinkette further onto her humbled knees and leaving her quaking, just how the sly assassin wanted it to be.

But it wasn't quite quaking out of bladder-emptying fear – Mignon was laughing. Laughing loudly.

And it wasn't an innocent or ridiculing laugh. It was the laugh of someone who was mentally breaking over the course of the day.

"Don't you see? Mignon's mind is already gone..." She raised her hands up over her head, as her Cheshire cat smile widened.

With a magical poof, something plopped into Mignon's hands, in the shape of a shiny black ball decorated with dainty cartoon cats and ribbons.

And a lit fuse protruding in the middle.

"And now she's going to end this match before it begins!" One more giddy, crazy laugh, almost befitting the girl that wants to be considered a witch, before she started to prepare herself for the windup and the pitch...

The bomb heaved forward, making a goofy little whistle akin to a slide whistle scoring the fall of a nuke in the usual cartoon.

This was far from what Lien was okay with in terms of a 'serious' battle. "Oh, for fuck's sake..."

She kicked the bomb out of the air, sending it straight away from the intended target.

Within seconds, all vision was obscured by the horrific ball of colorful flames in the explosion and smoke...

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** **Between a ready-to-maim Lien Neville and a gradually-driven-insane Mignon Beart, hell is guaranteed to break loose.**


	35. R2: Mignon Beart vs Lien Neville, Part 1

**Y'know what it's like typing out 9K words over just a couple days? It's weird as hell, but I think I'm evolving. Maybe it's the KoF XV hype train rolling through, or maybe this fight especially was one I wanted to write. Probably the latter since, again, this chapter was originally 9000 WORDS and had to be split a little just for the sake of not making this match of all things one of the longest single-chapter fights of the fic. Sit back and hope for the best for your go-to character here, it's gonna be a crazy ride.**

* * *

 **SECOND ROUND – MATCH #5  
** **Lien Neville vs. Mignon Beart**

The smoke of the wild bomb encased the hallway for an uncomfortably long time – whatever sort of attack magic that was encased in that misleadingly cute ball of destruction was _strong as hell._

Lien couldn't see shit through the dark gray haze, and was fighting some remnants out of her system, through her throat in a rough cough. She couldn't make out too much around her, but she could faintly recognize a hole made in the wall where the bomb made impact, revealing the empty gap in the architecture between hallways.

"Mignon fucking Beart, the bubblegum pest, resorting to literally blowing up the competition." Lien then sighed with aggravation. "Even I'd find a way to be more subtle..."

Before long, she felt the smoke around her push against her, the vapor being encircled further around her under the influence of the bent gale winds.

Then she felt a cannonball's worth of force smash into her gut. "Oof~!"

" _Gotcha!_ "

From one end of the obscuring exhaust to the other, Lien was tackled vigorously by the fierce and bitter Mignon, forced onto her knees as a result of the witch's reckless fists against her body. Lien attempted to meet back on the offense with an arm entrapped over Mignon's neck, but having to deal both defense and offense in a single attempt left the blonde assassin no choice but to try and throw her opponent off course.

Mignon was heaved across the room, splatting down on the floor on her side as she slid across the carpet.

Meanwhile, Lien continued to wipe away the blood that trinkled from her nose at molasses' pace. "You're not just staring death in the face, you're intentionally throwing yourself at it – are you _that_ much willing to suffer?"

Mignon hissed viciously, her hair already growing as disheveled as her mind. "Mignon's just getting started...!" She swiftly leapt to her right, towards the one unscathed wall of the hallway.

She hugged the wall, and then flung herself straight into dangerous territory as she again attempted to pounce on her opponent – Lien blocked the clawing strike as it came down, and countered with a swinging right hook that risked shattering one of her witch adversary's cheekbone had it actually connected.

Instead, Mignon weaved under and grabbed Lien by the hips, lifting her up with surprisingly more ease than expected out of someone who worked more on their spells than their lacking muscle tone. Lien was brought down against one of the walls, crashing her back against it, as Mignon continued to throw herself shoulders-first into the assassin's stomach, as though she was trying to force a lot more than gasps and yelps of pain out of Lien's unrelenting mouth.

Lien returned the favor quite suddenly, grabbing onto the back of Mignon's top and leveling her with a crushing knee to the stomach. She clung onto the red fabric of the witch's dress as she held tightly, and drove the knee in a couple more times before allowing Mignon an unwanted taste of the drywall by forcing her face-first against it.

"Pl'ech~!" Mignon gasped once her neck was slammed from behind with a sharp chop, and her throat crushed closer against the wall – then she squealed, "Gyaah!" as her roly-poly hairdo was yanked on remorselessly.

"You should've just stayed home," Lien suggested, close up to Mignon's ears, as she kept a handful of the pink locks. "Spare yourself the insanity for once in a while..."

Mignon's immediate retort started physically, as she reached backwards with both hands and started desperately fondling the opposition's face in an attempt to gouge out whatever facial features she could fumble upon. Lien continued to pressure her further against the wall, but she refused to leave the struggle be as she kicked backwards against the femme fatale's gut...

...and then started planting her feet against the wall, running up it with enough of a certain friction of her odd boots to scale the remaining plywall that wasn't trashed by the bomb, and jumping straight over Lien's head.

Mignon wrapped herself right over Lien's back, clinging on like the more-than-metaphorical 'monkey' on her opponent's back, and with a twirling tongue of sinister anticipation, her mouth opened wide for the kill...

 _CHOMP!_

"AGH!" Mignon's chompers bore no joking matter on Lien's uncovered neck skin, drawing further blood as the assassin throttled about with the witch latched onto her in the locked down piggy-back.

Lien threw herself backwards into a wall and in turn smashing Mignon into it as well, trying to budge her relentlessly irritating opponent off before she tried to tear the bite-wound open even further.

After having to spit out from the admittedly-ugly taste of the minimal blood reaching her teeth, Mignon found time to gloat. "I've beyond drawn first blood – now's the time to reconsider messing with this kitty!"

Lien growled against the grating sounds of her opponent. "You're not a – god – damned – cat!" She managed to break herself free of the nuisance on her back, throwing Mignon back over to her front with a snapmare, and kicking her straight in the face to level her onto her back on the floor

"You're a bloody retard, is what you are!" she finished, raising a heel up to thrust it back down against the witch's chest...

...though she started to grow to regret the idea when Mignon caught two handfuls of her boot. Her eyes eventually widened a slight when the witch started to open her mouth and lean it over.

From there, Lien quickly rescinded on her stomping efforts. "Oh fuck no, you aren't tasting any more of me, you feisty little _bitch!_ " Her leg wound back and then made a half-circle curve return into enemy territory to kick Mignon sideways across the mouth, maybe hoping to knock some teeth out.

"Your jaw's going to be wired shut when I'm done with you..." Lien jumped straight back into close contact, shoving a hand up from underneath Mignon's jaw in order to force it closed and prevent the hungry witch from getting any more biting offense.

However, Mignon managed to fight enough of a chance to get a say in the matter. "Not a chance, you rotten—!" She clinked her vibrant wrist orbs together – and there was nothing but white brightness between them.

A blinding flash, almost like the burning glare of the sun, caught Lien dead-on and forced her to again separate from contact. Mignon was additionally a little disoriented being so close to her own maneuver, but she managed to get over it quick enough to roll away when she saw Lien jumping straight down at her with a fist thrusting down for facial contact – instead, the Brit bitch found herself forearm-deep into a newly-busted hole in the wall.

On the retract, however, it wasn't quite easy...

"Ah, fuck-arse..." Oh, the unfortunate circumstance of bulky gadgetry – now the scenery itself was fighting against Lien as she tried to free her from the strong jaw of the busted wall.

Even 'better' yet, this miscalculation gone awry cost her valuable time dealing with her opponent – within seconds, Mignon went back to pouncing on her face, pummeling with meek but truly annoying jabs that tried to riddle down on her durable body.

Lien still had her left hand free to shove and gouge at Mignon's face, leveling even lower with keepaway kicks as she didn't have much to work with in the predicament she flung herself into. She had to spend time keeping her opponent at bay, as it took a lot of willpower for her to bring her arm out of the wall, albeit at the result of tearing off a chunk more of it along the wall...

...only to put _another_ hole in the wall as she tried to clothesline Mignon with a wide-wind forearm strike, almost bringing herself to square one. Thankfully, she wasn't stuck again, but...

" _Thunderbolt!_ " Mignon flung a fist forth against Lien's ribs, sparking with destructive magical energy that sent the assassin flying.

It wasn't quite being outright struck by lightning, but it was pretty damn close, and could feel the itchy sizzle against the damaged leather of her bodysuit. Also a tangible change was the weight on her right arm, or the amount of it that was suddenly significantly lacking.

The gadgeted gauntlet was still in the wall – and Mignon also took notice, an invisible lightbulb buzzing above her head... and she dashed over to struggle it free. However, as the witch ensued with her attempts, so did Lien with her attempt to make the save on her weaponry.

After two handfuls and a foot against the wall's worth of hard struggles, Mignon did manage to get the bracelet free...

...only for Lien to catch her before anything further was done. "You wouldn't dare."

Mignon smiled cleverly. "Oh, but Mignon _would._ "

"You don't even know how it works."

" _Just watch._ " Mignon spun and nailed a gut kick onto Lien to briefly level her, quickly shoving an arm into the bracelet in a surprisingly snug fit despite the witch's bulky hand-guard. She swung back around for a swiping smack that was abruptly halted by Lien's continuing defense.

The tug-of-war over the object quickly devolved into Lien locking in a brief Kimura lock as she tried to take back what belonged to her while considering the bonus of outright breaking bones on top of the current objective – but Mignon maneuvered over the sexy assassin and made long-range the game to play at the moment, bopping Lien on the back of the head with the gauntlet with a highly-audible _PWONG_ and running for her life.

Before Lien fully hit the floor, rubbing her head in sharp pain, she could feel the wind fighting against her, attempting to drag her across the floor, further away from her target. Mignon bent the wind to her will to keep her opponent at bay while she combined another spell to fling herself onto the ceiling and stick herself to it.

Lien was left distracted momentarily by the near-concussion received off the metal bracelet clonking her on the skull, struggling to get to her feet as the weaselly witch was halfway across the hall from her, quite a distance away.

Then she saw the cat collar left discarded from prior to the match – after recalling first the weirdness of Angel to have had the item to begin with, Lien started to gather that she had to work within what else remained in her arsenal. She didn't really have a choice.

As it turned out, Mignon wasn't having much success herself in ideas of what to do, in terms of her stolen goods. She was twisting and feeling upon the jewels and other miscellaneous buttons and she couldn't find anything effective as far as she knew...

"This was a bad idea, wasn't it? All these buttons and I don't know how they work..."

Then she felt herself get yanked by the leg, pulling part of her downwards from the ceiling, as the collar caught around her foot and she was quickly left holding onto the ceiling with her spellbound-hands.

"Come on down, you skeevy little brat!" proclaimed the impatient Lien, making decent work in trying to drag her opponent back down to ground level.

"Eergh! Stop calling me that!" Mignon's 'charm', and tendency to the third-person, were starting to wain on the irritating presence of her dangerous opponent, and she managed to keep a hold onto the ceiling with her gloves and eventually again with her unbound leg, setting that foot up against the top of the hall and keeping herself laying up there until she managed to figure something out.

One last tug, however, was enough for Mignon to get yanked straight off the ceiling entirely, eventually sending her on her way back down ...

…but then she looped over Lien's back... and then slid under between her legs with what seemed like more wind-spell involvement...

...and Lien eventually fell victim to gravity, getting flipped backwards over onto her face as she wound up dragged by the rope of the collar still held in her hands, while the other end made its way into Mignon's hands as she had her fun with the assassin at their expense.

Some of the blood off Lien's busted nostril and bite wound wiped against the carpet as she glared up with even less patience than before. "You're starting to really piss me off right now..."

Mignon snorted away a stifled cackle. "Starting? Mignon thought you were _always_ such a grump!" Then before getting a full chuckle, she got yoinked over – "Wah!" – and wound up with her neck clutched by Lien's firm hand.

 _Thwack!_ A hard headbutt set Mignon back a mile mentally as Lien leveled her skull-to-skull and then brought her opponent to her knees with a piercing heel of her boot to the gut.

Lien dropped another devastating leg down on Mignon, right on the back of her head, and sparked a moderate geyser of dust as part of the carpet was blown out of place alongside the victimized witch.

Before she could make it back down to the floor with her bearings regained, Mignon was again yanked back down into a jaw-jacking kick as her hands unintentionally kept hold of the collar and brought her into more of Lien's comboing offense – the witch spiraled like a drill before meeting another heel-drop from above on her gut to bring her to the ground, and she stayed put, trying to take in enough air to make up for the amount knocked out of her, as Lien started to take position atop her, fiddling around with the cat collar.

"I want you to know, _this,_ " Lien jiggled the velvety black rope of the collar, "was not the type of thing I had in mind for making you – but I know no matter what I hold in my hands, it can be used to my sick liking."

She forced the collar hooping through Mignon's head to have it worn around her neck, and from the looks of it, it seemed a little small on the witch's neck.

 _Perfect._

Mignon only realized her predicament as she was being lifted up within Lien's arms, and clutched at the collar snug around her neck before swatting out frantically at her opponent's face

"Hey!" screeched Mignon, unfortunately not doing enough to save herself. "Let go of me, you vixen!"

"Not a chance in hell," Lien said, barely budging to the struggle against the weakened witch. "If I can't make you submit with just my fists, I've got plenty of other means that'll do even better."

One turn around the corner brought the competitors to one of the stairwells leading into the back-hall of the foyer – the height of the overall staircase looked at about 30 feet from top to bottom.

All the details of her unfortunate situation left Mignon nearing a pants-ruining feeling – the harsh height that would certainly hurt from getting dropped down there, the collar stuck around her neck, the length of rope that looked about long enough to

"Oh no – no, nononono," Mignon panicked, throttling even more severely within her opponent's entrapping arms. Her left arm, still bearing the stolen bracelet, was defied any more blunt strikes as Lien blocked it before getting another backend smack and locked down the arm under her pit.

"Think of what you're doing!" The witch was sweating out of fear, though mostly from her spastic movements. "Did you at least consider the consequences?!"

Lien grinned with absolute confidence. "Oh, you wouldn't want that from me – thinking about it will just make it more satisfying to me."

Fully approaching the railing, she skipped the fluff of the savored moment and went straight to bodyslam-throwing Mignon over it, one hand holding onto the rope while the other end with the collar settled with grim intentions...

...but held on! Her two hands took a clutch of some of the vertical poles coming down from the top of the wooden railing, just at the point before the collar tightened, sparing her the struggle. She was sweating harder, feeling hotter under the pressure.

Meanwhile, Lien wound her rope-holding hand back in frustration. "Oh, for fuck's sake!" She reached a hand through the poles and started bringing it down on Mignon's hand, attempting to shove her further down – next idea came to attack the hands, bringing a boot to the fingers intertwined around the poles.

Mignon's whole body twitched in pain each time her fingers felt the rough kicks, and her teeth gritted underneath the struggle stacked atop her, in perhaps the more dangerous period of the fight so far, if not for her whole run through the tournament so far. Out the corner of her eye in the middle of this, however, she started to see something jiggle out from underneath the stolen beehive-esque gauntlet – what looked to be a smaller object emerging...

A _knife_ , perhaps?

Not that she was fully comfortable with a weapon like that, but she knew enough to call on desperate measures – before it fell out of her reach, she managed to catch the switchblade and click it open.

Instead of chopping straight for the rope and cutting herself free – which would naturally result on her still taking about a 20-foot fumble to the end of the stairwell if gravity set in as expected – Mignon opted on the spot to swing backwards...

...stabbing right in the ankle with full force!

" _Shit!_ " Lien almost immediately lost her balance once she felt the sharpness impaling through her right ankle, and at the same time she let go of the collar rope.

The loosening rope meant that Mignon was about to make an unprepared drop – though her panicked attempts made sure other plans were in store.

"WIND SPIRIT SAVE ME!" Her last-minute magic allowed the wind to keep her hovering at a safe, akin to being above a _very_ strong fan, so she had time to consider and look back at her opponent. She had to recollect some certain book-learned ideas...

On the other side of things, Lien already had a bunch on her plate coping with the knife _jabbed into her leg._ As she calmed her breathing and soon yanked the knife out, bringing a trail of blood and slight gore seeping out from her ankle, her eyes lingered back to the rope end of the collar – either the slight blood loss was already somehow twisting her mind, or the collar was moving on its own.

"What the hell?" Before she recognized what was the cause for her confusion, the rope jumped out at her neck and started wrapping itself around it.

At this point, Mignon's wind spell calmed down to turn off the brief elevation, and she kept her legs settled in between poles of the rail to keep herself from fully falling. She leaned her body back to tighten the collar's doing, thus wringing up Lien's body and leaving her nearly hovering halfway over the railing as the rope inverted its constriction onto her.

The tightening of the collar between the two left pained the most, but it wasn't completely pain-free for Mignon either, as she had to strain at her best to brace the full lift upon her neck in order to not choke herself out in the process. Plus hanging almost literally by the thread over a sizable drop down.

"For the love of God... submit!" Mignon demanded, nearly popping veins in the struggle.

"Akkh~!" Lien could barely speak because the line of the collar threatened to crush her vocal cords in with how deeply it was indenting against her neck. There was absolutely _no way_ in Heaven _or_ Hell that she was going to let herself succumb to what counted down as a lucky break for the witch on the other end of the battle.

Thank fuck for the knife in her hand, then.

Managing enough movement within herself to lift the knife up, the blade carefully slipped between her neck and the airflow-cutting cord, making sure not to poke into herself. With one swift flick through, the cord easily split under the blade, sparing Lien from the chokehold.

What this also meant was an unprecedented downfall for Mignon. "Uh-oh..."

She lost her ankle-heavy balance on the edge of the railing, and things nearly blinked into whiteness once she clonked her head on the landing upon one of the last few steps at the bottom of the stairs. She had to have felt lucky not to have completely knocked herself out on the splat to the ground.

The battle had now reached the back-end of the foyer, as expected with the directions from the upper deck, and unfortunately the scenery change may not do much for the battle's length, as with the remaining health of those involved, it could boil down to just a couple minutes further before a decisive end.

Guess there was no more use for the cat collar anymore, as Mignon peeled it off from her neck and tossed it by this point, still fairly conscious. She was running out of ideas at this point, especially ideas without needing to use her spells, as her concentration and patience depended on it. God knows how little she had of both at that point.

"Something, please work..." She again tried to rely on the stolen gauntlet wrapped snuggly around her left arm, but technology was clearly far from her strong suit.

All the while, Lien had been having slight struggle making her way down to meet up with her opponent – still slowly but clearly leaking blood from the wound in her ankle, opening and closing, trailing red down the entire set of stairs as she saw the desperately laying Mignon near the bottom.

"I guess I have to admit you aren't fully useless," said Lien. "You've lasted far longer than I'd give you credit for."

Mignon rolled over onto her back, looking up to her opponent – and admiring the work that she managed to do on the assassin in terms of battle damage. She even found a smile... "Mignon did a good job trashing your good looks. That's part of what matters..."

Lien scoffed at the proudness the witch felt before her. "Don't feel so accomplished – that'll change at a moment's notice. Now get up."

"Don't tell a witch what to do."

"You don't have a choice. Oh... and as for the stolen trinket you hold so dear..." Lien grabbed for the bracelet that was rightfully hers, clung around Mignon's right wrist.

"Oh crap – oh-crapohcrap _ohcrap_ ~" The white-mage witch's eyes widened and she tried to scamper away, only for Lien's tight grasp to keep her immobilized.

"Give it _here._ " Lien kept her tone just and calm, though as impatient as she was after the punishment she almost refused to suggest was dealt on her. "I'm not asking again."

Mignon's so-called bravery fell apart at the seams as she desperately tried to free herself – spells were farthest from the first idea on her mind as she mentally disintegrated to the ideals of a scared child. "Please! Please, give Mignon a break, will ya!?"

Natural escalation took its toll – and eventually Lien had to bring a boot against Mignon's gauntlet-hogging arm.

A disgustingly unsubtle snapping of bone sounded off, and Mignon felt as though her arm had basically split in half – her jaw was wide open now, but nothing was coming out. Nothing but barely audible agony that couldn't be easily described by text on a page.

After managing to slip her gauntlet away from the 'safety' of the witch's person, Lien looked on with nothing but the purest satisfaction at seeing her opponent squirm, kicking and rolling about, trying to deal out blood-curdling screams that just couldn't come out – nothing but wheezing and gasping out of her opponent, and she couldn't be any more fascinated.

"'Give Mignon a break', huh?" Lien chuckled, re-equipping her bracelet. "What a poor choice of words, now was it?"

By now, poor Mignon had rolled over mostly on her front, hiding the affected arm under herself as tears began to break loose from under her eyes like a miserable waterfall.

"And now we see here, the true colors of Mignon Beart," Lien declared over the crying body of her opponent. "Not the supposed brave soul she perceives herself to be." She swiftly punted Mignon in the gut just as the witch was starting to get up, keeping her leveled on the floor, as there was plenty left to do.

Just so happened there was a camera at a fairly close corner where the fighters were, and Lien took the opportunity to show off the suffering brought upon her foe, sitting atop her and grabbing onto Mignon's shattered arm for everyone watching to see.

Elevated like it was, the bones shattered within gave way to an angle to her arm Mignon never wanted it to bend, close to 90 degrees backwards from the elbow, hanging like a limp noodle. Even within the skin, one could make out the broken bones bulging where it shouldn't. She wept silently as she was presented like an art piece.

"Do you see this!?" Lien's shout up to the camera was targeted straight towards the hostess of the tournament. "If you'd rather she stay alive, I'll make sure she wishes she was dead!"

Mignon's broken arm was slammed back down to the ground, not doing much better to her condition than it was already. Lien stared back down at her, seeing nothing but a guinea pig to pick apart at her own whim. This was her match, and even if she was pretty much the winner by this point, she was far from done.

"You might be done for now, or you might not – either way, I don't give a shit. Before I finish this, I might as well take a souvenir. But what to pick? Perhaps a lock of hair... a finger... an ear?"

The knife twirled gracefully in her fingers as she stood over Mignon's prone body, picking her spot to move in for the 'kill'. Lien lowered herself over the helpless witch's body, sitting atop her as she brought the blade closer to Mignon's right ear. Far from the first time she had intended to dismember some part of someone, but in this case it was more about a matter of dominance than a matter of business.

As for Mignon, it could not be any more of a 'darkest hour' for her in this tourney – the witch already dealt with the broken limb to begin with, so to potentially lose her _ear_ over someone's hatred was a thing of nightmare to her. All she could do was grit her teeth, close her eyes and let the tears flow through the pain.

Though as she looked to the floor, she could swear her tears were sucking the color out of the carpet before her. In fact... everything was going gray around her, and she didn't know why. As she closed her eyes again, her thoughts ran about with fear...

* * *

Mignon's eyes sprung open – everything was fully black and white again. She felt surprisingly good alongside it, and even her broken arm seemed unbroken again – though she came to realize she wasn't in the same realm as she was seconds before.

She was basically a spirit outside of her body, encased in a whole different realm. She crawled away from where she initially laid, and took a look at herself briefly, being mounted like a horse about to be put down as Lien had the knife close to her head. Her eyes lingered everywhere else soon afterwards.

 _What is this...?_

 _It can't be... is this... no, I can't already be..._

 _..._

 _ **You're not dying.**_

 _Hmm?_

 _ **You're just acting hopeless again.**_

Mignon spun around a little bit, recognizing her sister's stoic voice again as she realized some sort of her dark presence through the black-and-white blinking into redness.

Eventually, as she turned back around towards her physical self's unfortunate position, could be seen standing before her.

"Hello again," Ninon greeted, her smile as sinister as ever. "Like I said – no, you're not dying. I brought you here."

"Wha...? Now?" Something came across Mignon's mind at that point. "But... the tournam—"

"We're within a millisecond of frozen time," explained Ninon. "No one's going to notice a thing."

Mignon didn't have a clue what else to ask but... "...Why? Why do you keep following me like this? Haven't I suffered enough?"

"Honestly? The sibling rivalry wouldn't be as fun with someone who'd become so... horrifically scarred by the battle before her. I'll give you this one ultimatum, just for the sake that you don't lose an ear in a pointless fight."

"Hold on – what's the catch?"

"Nothing really – I'll grant you some of my power, and you'll be given a fighting chance that one would hope doesn't go to waste. Now, I don't expect you to use this power wisely, so it's more a matter of bracing for the inevitable."

"Ninon, I... I can't." Mignon hung her head low, making her decision sooner rather than later. "I promised the family peace and light – there's nothing worse than breaking that promise."

"Then you'd face defeat on your own terms? With a broken arm and a piece of your body robbed from you?"

"Better to embrace the light than the dark."

Ninon rolled her eyes, refusing to feel defeated in the matter. "Fine." Then she offered a hand out to her sister. "Then at least take my hand and I'll bring you back – since you'd have trouble figuring out how to re-enter the physical realm by yourself, knowing so little to begin with."

Mignon couldn't deny it – she would definitely be lost without this one time being aided by her sister. "Just stop insulting me, please? I've been through enough." Her hand reached out and clutched her sister's.

Then there was another spark of red – a deep glow of it this time around – and the pinkette was startled. Even more startling was the increased aura of red within the pupils of Ninon's eyes, and the creepy grin along with it.

" **Once again, your idiocy pays off.** "

"Wait... wha—"

Everything went white and bright like staring into the sun.

* * *

It felt like everything exploded and sight was reduced to whiteness like the aftereffects of a flashbang.

Before a caved-in, cracked wall beside one of the doors, Lien was suddenly laid out, her knife having flung out of her hand and now halfway through the opposite wall. She groaned as she regained her bearings, rubbing her head and brushing away the dust of drywall from her hair. Last she knew, she was about to earn herself a bloody ear as some sort of fucked-up prize, but now that was far lost to her as she tried to figure out...

"What the fuck just happened...?"

Lien's sight started as a momentary blur for a good few seconds as she rose up, and she eventually found her way to seeing where her opponent was.

Mignon was still laying where was before everything took a turn, her face buried against the floor and her limp, busted arm still noodly and horribly bent. She was almost unmoving, only twitching unnervingly as she kept position for a moment longer – before slowly finding her way onto her knees and bringing herself up with her head held high. However, some things were clearly different.

Firstly, the white streak going down the side of her still mostly pink hair – that was _not_ there before, as far as it was known. Then her eyes opened – one eye was the usual maroon red of Mignon's usual iris color, but the other was clearly a harsh reddish-pink. Then the look on her face overall was no longer of a weeping, tortured soul, but someone who's soul was cleared; refreshed, and _barely_ emotional.

Lien didn't know what to think of it – other than she may have triggered some sort of second wind out of her opponent. She managed to find a devious smile out of all of this.

"Alright... you have my attention." Making it to her feet, Lien stylishly kicked the knife out of the hole in the wall it was stabbed into, letting it spin like a helicopter blade in the air before landing in her hand with full readiness. "I'll be having that ear whether you like it or not."

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** **Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time in the story, a match has to go into a two-parter! Considering I actually wrote the whole fight (again, _NINE THOUSAND WORDS_ ), it's not gonna be long before we see how this 'new' Mignon does battle.  
**


	36. R2: Mignon Beart vs Lien Neville, Part 2

" _Ninon?_ "

" _ **Hmm?**_ "

" _What did you do?_ "

" _ **I suggest you don't be alarmed – though I'd actually prefer you do; I... MAY have merged my presence with yours...**_ "

" _W-what!?_ "

" _ **I've actually been working on this spell for quite a while – what do you think?**_ "

" _It's... it's awful! It feels weird and... why can't I do anything about this!? I can't move–!_ "

" _ **Just follow my lead, and shut up, alright?**_ "

" _...I don't have a choice in the matter, do I?_ "

" _ **Nope. Now let's put this stupid body to work.**_ "

* * *

Though the internal dialogue bouncing between the witch sisters was loud in one realm – in another realm, the physical realm, the body of Mignon was now a vessel to the merged presence of herself and Ninon, swaying with the bare minimum of motion like a zombie.

On the while, Lien did her best to take the small window of opportunity to test the waters, hoping to plunge her handy little blade somewhere non-lethal to level the rejuvenated witch with a jolt of something fierce

One nice swoop forward – and Mignon caught it.

 _With her broken arm._

Within the realm of two Bearts' thoughts, Ninon sounded off one more time. " _ **Just for the record, I'll be needing this arm.**_ "

With one hard plunge, Mignon's left fist plunged into her right arm, and with a crack and a _POP,_ all indication of the arm's horrifically shattered status was rendered to nothing as it went back to working as intended.

In turn, as a sort of 'eye for an eye' case, Lien's left arm suddenly started bending at an identical angle as the horrible fracture of her opponent's arm

"What the _fffff—_!?" Lien found herself at a rare state of panic, kicking Mignon in the gut, to little avail, and retreating before any damage was done.

However, the escape meant letting go of the knife, as it was sent straight back into the air, spinning almost as swiftly as it did when it was kicked free from the chipped wall. Before meeting a landing anywhere on the carpet between them, Lien attempted to catch it quickly, but the knife found its way within the clutches of the dark magic brewing through Mignon's hijacked body.

...ultimately finding its way handle-deep _into_ Lien's chest, just below the neck. She froze where she stood, tanking the stabbing attack that thankfully didn't hit anywhere vital. Still, it hurt like hell, and her face contorted against the sharp pain burrowed in her chest. Blood slowly made its way to the surface, dripping down her chest and onto her goods as she soon took a clutch of the knife in an attempt to retract.

"Aah!" She quickly let go of the handle, yelping from the _extreme_ heat that suddenly pumped out from the knife.

" **I wouldn't do that if I were you.** "

Forcing an eye back open as she coped with the burning pain on her hand, Lien looked up to recognize the presence of Mignon stoically standing before her – mainly because it didn't sound all that much like Mignon anymore; at least, the Mignon that was overly-egotistical and boisterous in her shrillness. She no longer even sounded emotional – _at all._

" **You have no right to resist anymore.** "

To make up for the zero emotion, Mignon's newfound voice sounded like _two_ people in unison – like Mignon and her sister Ninon spoke as a legion of two.

Of course, Lien didn't know shit of the sisterhood, mainly because she never bothered with research on what she considered weak competition in the past – all she basically saw was the colorful witch taking a turn towards the wicked side.

"This your latest trick, Mignon?"

" **Mignon's not here right now - there is only Minon.** "

Lien was conflicted, to say the least. "Different name, same girl. Though, then again... it really seems like you're getting serious – I don't want to say I'm starting to like this..." She was starting to form an impressed grin, trying to put the pain aside. "But if you're stacking the deck, I can't deny it."

The amalgam that could easily be known as 'Minon' was not amused, however. " **Oh. I see how it is. The annoying, punchable girl you love to hate suddenly gets serious, and now you start to turn the other cheek?** "

The knife burned within Lien's chest again, and she could feel the dripping blood damn near bubble around the wound. "Fuck!" She tried to grasp at it, but didn't want to in regards to the fresh recollection of her hand burning beneath her glove.

Minon almost smiled at the sound of Lien's pain. "Y **ou may grow to live with the burning before long. It's really only the beginning of the suffering.** "

"I see you aren't taking any compliments, huh?" Lien realized. "Then what the hell do you want?"

" **Simple – you give up the match and step away from this whole tournament, and I'll consider mercy.** "

"You want me to drop the match? To _you?_ Even how you are now, I'm not convinced." Lien swung a wild hook just to further defy the request, managing to nail the punch head on to Minon's face – after barely flinching to the fist across her face, the mind-merged witch simply cricked her neck back on her opponent.

Then suddenly Lien felt the punching hand suddenly get caught in dark energy and wind over behind her back – as soon as it wound up there, she couldn't find a way to break it away.

It didn't really bother her that much, though, as she took it with confidence. "No matter – I'm still one hand free."

" **No, you're not.** "

There went Lien's other arm, wound up in the exact same method, so she ultimately wound up in what was basically invisible handcuffs.

' _Bitch works quick,_ ' thought Lien. ' _Gotta respect that, whether I like it or not..._ '

" **Do I have your full attention now?** "

"Do I have a choice?"

" **Hmph. You're right – you don't.** "

Lien's legs then suddenly crumpled until she was left on her knees, her full mobility now completely sealed off.

"So what if I don't conceed?" she asked. "You can't toy with me forever – you'd have to slow down at one point or another..."

" **We won't need to reach that point – the 'fun' I have planned works quick on the psyche.** "

Feeling herself saying that rendered Mignon uncomfortable on the inside. " _I don't like the sound of that..._ "

" _ **Then you're probably not going to like what's going to happen next,**_ " stated Ninon.

From there, the knife within Lien's chest finally escaped, unveiling the deep wound and the gruesome goods beneath. The knife was caked in red like a paintbrush, hanging about in the air under Minon's dark telekinetic energy.

" **Hold still for me, okay? I want to make sure everyone knows the mark I've made on you, and I** _ **demand**_ **perfection.** " She truly wanted her opponent to know that a master was to be at work here.

The knife then lingered against Lien's skin, feeling heated to the touch again – and then swiped across with a new scratch formed in connection to the initial deep wound. The assassin winced as the knife made a couple more diagonal swipes upwards and downwards, handling it well despite the light grimace on her face.

When Minon was finished working with the canvas, what finally laid dormant above the cleavage of Lien was a bloody, harsh 'M' scratched onto her exposed skin.

Though the skin-etched initial was a little sickening to have on her body, especially etched via a hot sharp knife, Lien couldn't help but admit, "You certainly know a way with branding."

" **It's the best I can do – because from now until your surrender, I can consider you nothing, nothing but** _ **mine.**_ "

"Hmph. I wouldn't consider myself anyone's plaything. You're lucky I can't move worth shit right now."

" **You are lucky you weren't simply turned inside out.** "

After almost an eternity of full-body stillness, Minon actually started to finally approach – it was far from dangerous territory now with Lien entrapped in the invisible bondage. She did as much as feeling about on her bound opponent's face as she came so close to the assassin.

" **Such a shame, though – a pretty face such as yours shouldn't be so unforgiving...** "

Before Lien could open her lips to respond, they were met with Minon's, and her eyes widened – has the crazy witch actually gone so far to just start _making out with her?!_

Mignon took extreme offense to what just happened. " _Ninon! W-what—!?_ "

" _ **I know what I'm doing – just keep your mouth shut...**_ "

The opponents broke away moments later, the spittle trailing between the two - Minon greeted her end of the embrace with a hanging tongue and a perverted smile, nearly drooling on herself as she took into consideration the success of her mind games so far.

Lien was left basically frozen before the corrupt witch, her fearful presence slowly finding itself outmatched in both strategy and provocation.

" _Holy shit._ I shouldn't have liked that. I didn't want to like that – _why did I like that!?_ "

Minon giggled creepily, arms still wrapped over the shoulders of her victim. " **Because I know you get off on whatever surprises you – whether it be the pain and suffering of your victims, or if they happen to assert themselves against** _ **Death itself.**_ " She wiggled the knife around in her hand so casually... " **It raises your blood pressure – underestimating the unexpected gets you excited. You love it, and** _ **you fucking know it.**_ "

"The hell..." After the lip service, didn't know what the fuck to think anymore - a lot has happened already throughout this match, and her mind was essentially tumbled through the dirt of utmost confusion.

" **Say it.** _ **Say you love this.**_ " The knife was inching closer, as though Minon threatened to continue making an artpiece out of the rival's skin.

"I..." Lien's head hung low for a moment, and it had to take a moment for her to. She had way too much to think about in regards to the attitude adjustment Mignon had suddenly gone through, to become this eerie new form.

Though it became clear how boundless Lien's defiance grew to be - even with Minon's newfound lust breathing down pn her and the knife eagerly floating against her body. Her smile returned partway as she finally returned eye contact. "I don't want to. I don't want to give you the damn satisfaction."

" **Then you'll suffer,** " proclaimed Minon. " **In more ways than one.** " Pulling away at the corset-like belt around Lien's waist until it loosened and pried away, her hands immediately met the unzipped edges of the bodysuit around Lien's breasts...

...and with a spreading swipe, the 'goods' of the femme fatale were unveiled fully, nipple and all, as she could do nothing more than to watch herself be revealed to the corrupted witch that took plenty of time oogling on her.

" **Devil be damned – barely anyone steps up to the mass on your body.** " Minon almost cupped her own - or in technicality still, Mignon's - chest to feel out the comparison to the superior goodness before her. " **Something even** _ **I**_ **can't resist.** "

Mignon was mostly a stranger to the explicit nature of the situation, so helplessly seeing her body act so upfront and hands-on to someone else's mostly naked body creeped her out more than anything her sister potentially could've done to her. " _Ninon... where is this going?_ "

" _ **Shut. Up.**_ " Ninon's patience was being tested by her sister's complaints. " _ **Don't make me shrink your tongue again.**_ "

" _Hate it when you threaten me with that..._ " She recalled having trouble breathing last time that threat was upheld upon...

Meanwhile, the knife eventually found its way back into play, though in a less violent capacity as Minon simply slid the bloodied blade down the middle of Lien's chest, making a line of dark red down the cleavage and stomach. All the while, the knife did enough to push down on the otherwise belt-hidden zipper where it sat, opening Lien's catsuit further.

Access was far and beyond the words needed to describe the zipper on Lien's outfit, as it was zipped down enough to start giving way to lower ends of her body, particularly her nice tight pussy looking like a beautiful, wet offering.

Minon pondered her dirty thoughts, bringing the knife to her face as she gave a good scan of her opponent's bare necessities. "I bet you'd be able to handle a bit of... _penetration_ coming from this."

Lien wasn't too budged. "Bend me and I won't break – I'll take what I can from you." For what she was expecting, she was going to get the full-brunt of the handle up within her slit – much like a few instances before where she had larger, thicker objects threatened against her orifices. Guns, bats, staffs, a lot of weaponry taken against her, making her endurance efforts worth it by the point where she stood now.

"Not from a dirtied knife, I bet." Minon proceeded to lick away the remnants of blood on the blade.

That one saying and the gruesome gesture quickly changed Lien's fortunes – it was absolutely not going to be the handle that she was going to have to deal with. She was still somewhat fascinated, but at the same time notably disgusted. "Bloody hell, you're really wanting to go all out in making me squirm, aren't you?"

" **I want to make you scream, Lien,** " replied Minon." **Scream like you never have before.** "

"Prepared to be disappointed – I won't let go of what makes me so goddamn fearless."

" **Oh, you will, whether you like it or not.** "

Minon took confidence into the palm of her hand, tossing it up lightly a few times before bringing more flair into it – she flung it up for a nice twirl and caught it.

And then she suddenly threw it against a wall, plunging it right back where it was moments before.

It took her a moment to realize what just happened, and by then, it may have been too late... " **Wait... hnngh—!** " Then her right hand suddenly started fighting against her, grabbing for her own throat as she strained to keep herself together.

Looks like the merger didn't pan out quite as well as Ninon wanted it, and the in-fighting in the mental realm was an even more chaotic affair

" _ **Mignon – what the hell do you think you're doing!?**_ "

" _I'm taking a chance, sister – and I'm evicting you!_ "

" _ **I've been helping you, and you STILL refuse – don't you think this cretin deserves a bit of payback? Are you THAT hopeless!?**_ "

" _I've come to realize the worst of two evils - and this body-snatching phenomena is coming to an end!_ "

" _ **Before you can finally defeat your fears? At the risk of your own body?!**_ "

" _Not like this, Ninon – NOT. LIKE. THIS!_ "

The sibling argument within translated out into a mess of a woman struggling with her mind, her hands clutched around her head. Meanwhile, Lien suddenly felt the invisible binds vanish from within her arms and legs in the midst, allowing her to move freely ( _although it felt so weird after what felt like quite a while without the capability_ ), but she still found herself watching as the being of 'Minon' started to escape from the host body before her.

Mignon's body staggered onto its knees as the witch found herself crumpling down ever so slightly with each second that passed in the struggle. What came finally in the finale to Mignon's escape from her sister's spellbinding entrapment was one last grand scream: a mix of the scared girl escaping her fears and the demon being extinguished from her body.

" _ **URAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHGG!**_ "

Then she suddenly went limp, as though she was a machine being unplugged, stripped of movement, as her head hung down and her arms finally fell to her side.

Lien only watched on further as Mignon's body finally started to flop forward, laying prone in an identical fashion to how she was before the... 'transformation' occurred. The assassin sat, more confused than ever before, as silence struck the room...

Was what happened actually real? By the looks of the cuts and miscellaneous battle damage on her body, yes.

But did she win? Hard to say.

It still seemed like Mignon was still conscious – though barely, with most of her remaining breath being used on the silent tears that continued where they left off. The white streak through her hair was gone, and her eyes again shared a color. The worst was over for her.

"I suppose you really can't handle yourself anymore, now can you?" said Lien as she started to approach. "Guess that's what happens when the victim tries to victimize – _now_ how do you feel?" Lien lifted a boot up from underneath Mignon's head, lifting her up a slight to try and make her meet eyes with the opponent.

Probably not a good idea.

"Hhurghkl~!"

A flood of beige grossness suddenly plurged out of Mignon's mouth and onto the hanging foot of Lien. This sparked the offended assassin to reel herself back in disgust, watching as she saw Mignon purge further stomach contents from her body.

A repulsive and smelly pool of muck, corn and other partially digested food was forming out from up Mignon's throat, across her tongue and out between her lips – the witch was basically releasing what was left of the 'demon' that entered her, for seconds on end of continuous puke and suffering. It was no hairball like she wanted to expect, being so feline-inspired – this was full liquid horror coming out of her.

"Ugh, to hell with this..." With a swift punt, Lien impatiently dealt with the retching witch with a kick to the face that spiraled some vomit across the walls as Mignon rolled onto her back, continuing to seize and gag as the purging ensued further across her body.

It was a pretty unsettling sight to see such an innocent girl go through so much in the match and end up a puked-up, throttling mess on the ground – even more unsettling to know it was mostly of her own fault due to the inner demons in the form of her dark-magic sister. Now where did it leave her? A disgusting mess that doesn't seem capable of continuing, which naturally meant...

 **WINNER: Lien Neville**

Lien was very clearly the last woman standing of the bout, though at this point she was just okay with making out of it with her mind intact unlike her opponent.

Though looking down on her, she eventually took a decision – nudging her foot against Mignon's side, she rolled the witch over so that she wasn't facing up anymore.

Why? Well, considering the 'no kill' rule and how hard it could be ensured even on a case like this, there probably wouldn't be any chances taken on Lien leaving poor Mignon to choke on her own barf.

Adjusting her half-unzipped bodysuit and feeling against her wounds, Lien began to limp back up the stairwell ( _likely in need of medical attention for the shit she went through_ ), taking the win as only a minor thing to focus on while she escaped the ' _experience_ '.

"What a fucking disaster this was..."

...

It was eventually left to just Mignon laying beside her pile of puke, barely alive and breathing as her face laid of near-lifelessness.

And that one butterfly that managed to make its way into the house, sitting beside the poor witch as though it wanted to be the comfort for her.

* * *

The day was still nice and bright by the afternoon as the tournament's second round made it past its halfway point – so different in comparison to the insane calamity of the combat going on within the mansion ( _especially from the most recent showing_ ).

The sun was gleaming, the wind was brushing the grass softly, and now was a fine time to ask aid of Mother Nature.

Nakoruru sat at the peak of one of the sizable hills of green in this open field, perched beside her, looking to the skies. She had a lot on her shoulders at the moment, though not of her own personal decisions...

Love Heart was homesick – _deeply_ homesick – and the events of these past couple days, especially this morning, were hell for her. You wouldn't want her to rant about it twice. However, now that she was cleaned up, healed up and, most important of all, back in her own proper attire after hours in towels and costumes that weren't hers ( _the latter of which were now a burnt mess_ ), she had made up her mind.

Nako eventually sensed the sky pirate coming up the hill to her side. "How do you feel now?"

"I don't know," said Love. "I've spent way too long away from these clothes – and yet I still feel uncomfortable. The day is beautiful though – I'm going to miss it."

"I would've figured you'd give time to reconsider now that you've had proper time to breathe."

"Oh, there's no reconsidering here. I know my path, and you know how to get me there."

Nakoruru had to bear with the truth that Love was all too right with her decision – she gulped, cherishing the time she and her friends from other worlds shared on Earth. To see someone know their departure was just as bittersweet as someone you know moving away. She had to press on though, and make her request clear to her ever-watching god all the way from her time.

" _Dear Kamui, hear me clear; what keeps time closed, shall open here..._ "

As the call to nature sounded into the sky with grace, a glow of blue shone down from where the sun could be seen, slowly unveiling a reality-rippling portal that safely sat before the two otherworlders with a charming teal glow.

Nako stated, "Beyond the portal lies another time, another world."

Love put her hands to her hips. "And it seems as simple as just walking through." All she could really make out through the hole in time were clouds that easily blended in between the skies of then and now. Was it home or was it somewhere else?

"But in actuality, very complicated," Nako noted. "One poor adjustment and only the gods know what could happen. I must let you know, though; I haven't used this kind of magic often. I may be one of the maidens, but I'm not perfect."

"You still know this stuff better than I do, Nako – give it a test run," Love suggested, already looking prepared to make the cross-through. "I'll check it out; if it's home, it's home – if it's not... what happens, happens."

"I don't know if that's such a great—"

"Too late; I'm takin' my chances!" Love was already making the quick sprint towards the portal, much to Nakoruru's surprise.

"W-wait!" Just simply reaching out to 'halt' didn't help Nako stop her friend, as Love Heart had already jumped off into the other side of the portal, shifting the ever-warping hole in time along the way.

Just like that, there was one less friend sharing the air of this modern Earth.

It was all happening a little too fast for Nakoruru, especially in the midst of so much more happening just within the nearby mansion alone. Between this world and the world she initially knew centuries before, she had dealt with enough struggles.

…

And then the portal rippled back the other way, sparking Nako's attention – was Love Heart coming back through, either to acknowledge something gone wrong, or second thoughts?

Before she could consider the answer, she was suddenly leveled by a body flying into her, knocking her back-flat onto the grass – she didn't get much of a look at what was coming her way, and she almost couldn't bear figuring it out just yet. The sudden introduction of two stray swords plopping into the grass on either side of her head didn't help favors, either, leaving her so far off-guard, she didn't really find patience in letting things settle before figuring it all out.

Nakoruru had to shift the mysterious body, which she was initially relieved was simply unconscious, off of herself and – though as she managed to get a better sight upon who was just spat out of the portal, she grew to feel uncomfortable about who _exactly_ it was. "Oh, sweet nature..."

The details lined up to Nako's worries – the twin swords left sitting in the grass, the dark-haired lady of which the swords belonged to, and the snake tattoo lining around that lady's back. Only one name could escape the nature girl's lips.

"Shiki...?"

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** **After the developments that have just ensued, the tournament continues beyond the peak of this wild second round!  
**


	37. R2: Vice vs Blue Mary

**SECOND ROUND – MATCH #6  
** **Vice vs. Blue Mary**

If we were to imply anything without subtlety, Vice was growing to become an _impatient_ motherfucker.

Mature was out of the running – and in turn forced to keep away from future battles on at least a physical spectrum – and the 'slutty third-wheel' Shermie was spending too much time toying around with the guy that would be personally, and quite rudely, considered by Vice as nothing but a 'flaming faggot'. She really couldn't give much of a damn about some of the indirectly connected like Aoi or Leona, beyond the occasional teasing and taunting just to mess around.

Even that wasn't good enough for her, though. All the hackneyed ridiculousness of the Earth she'd have to keep up with, was more than enough reason to prefer the Orochi underworld. No socialization needed. No trite _bullshit_ needed.

Beneath a wide window peering out from one side corner of the mansion, Vice sat within the shade it provided. Gnawing on her wrist with almost enough to break through the skin with her teeth, her feral characteristics were starting to creep back into the surface as the conflicts within made her seem more and more disturbed. _More than usual?_ That's a challenge.

At least she knew where she could vent these frustrations...

"Did I find you at a bad time, red?"

Blue Mary's presence confidently entered the fray before long, her picking at the trim of her tight tanktop.

"Would you mind your own business, _blonde?_ " Vice retorted, condescendingly throwing the hair color-coding back at the grappling babe. Didn't take kindly at all to the immediate taunting – even though her positioning like a loner and an outsider basically called for it.

"Don't think I will," said Mary. "There's a warrant for your ass-kicking coming up – wouldn't want to have to double-down on the punishment for resisting."

"You know what you're messing with, right? To us, a jail cell would be no less of a problem than an open door."

"Oh, I've faced down worse; you got any further questions – or are we gonna start getting down and dirty?"

Vice sneered smugly. "Well, if you're down to get dirty..."

Pairs of eyes came even closer as Vice reeled her opponent in by hand – a couple fingers snaked over the neck of Mary's top, pulling down as much as possible.

"...I think I'd be overqualified."

"Right..."

 _ **FIGHT!**_

From that point, Mary's right hand went all around, making three focal points of contact:

One swat to the left to bat away the lingering hand of Vice.

Another swat back over to the right to backhand across the violent redhead's face.

And then lastly, a clenching and a fist thrusting forward to smash against the redhead's sternum – which Mary quickly capitalized on as she followed her opponent down into the ground as she tackled her and immediately started pursuing action on the very same hand Vice used to feel up on her neck.

Without fully committing to the potentially arm-breaking experience, however, Vice lifted herself up and over on top of Mary just as the private-eye grappler tried to wind down on the shoulder. "Ooh~ ...feeling testy, are we?"

Mary replied back, "I don't let just _anyone_ keep close to me – especially creeps like you."

The redhead grinned schemingly. "Heh. Like we give a damn about personal space anymore."

Vice's hand made a hard clutch for Mary's jaw – with one strong flick, it could dislocate, but she didn't yet approach the level of impatience and disdain warranted, opting only to fondle and pinch until Mary eventually squirmed out, sliding down and pursuing lower limbs. Mary made the quick gamble on her limb of choice, choosing quite wisely for the moment as she snatched out the right ankle from under Vice and had her trip onto her stomach, prime for the weardown.

Vice wriggled around like a dog held back by their leash, as her lower body was lifted up by Mary's clutching efforts, only retaining contact with the floor with her hands palm-flat against it – she gritted away her explicit mutters, keeping them under her teeth as she planned her inevitable escape...

Vice's body twisted around against Mary's lock, but the blonde agent had no intention of letting go on her own whim – so it was up to her opponent to decide for her; Vice's hand whipped out with clear extension off from the shoulder, ranging wide with the slashing slap across Mary's face in return for the one that started the bout off, but it didn't do too much to the grip.

Vice's body bridged backwards as she lumbered to the point of nearly bringing herself upside down, elevating herself further as she helped herself to the loosening hold. As it came to this point, Blue Mary admitted to herself that the ankle lock wasn't doing too much considering the free limbs of the rival that they still had usable, and she let go, throwing the entrapped leg over and coming in for some much _harder_ contact while her opponent was on her hands and knees.

Vice braced the rolling sobat kick that smashed a sole onto her face, allowing the brief shoe imprint to grace the right of her face, before jumping up to avoid the following low sweep that Mary lunged closer in with, preparing to jump down on her opponent – only for Mary to catch her into a shoulder-carry and then a spine-smashing takedown slam, again relying on the groundwork for a few moments longer...

Mary's right arm gouged against Vice's face as she held the Hakkesshu follower down on the ground – while her other arm was within Vice's snide clutches in a hammerlock of sorts, enduring a little bit of pinching from the clawing hands of the snakey bitch.

Mary's hold-down devolved into a lot of ground-and-pound punches and a bit of rolling around between the two as they traded top-and-bottom positions over and under each other; not as much calculated strikes and blows and more just all that came with the package of grit and unsubtle brawling tactics.

Even with the growing dirtiness of the rollabout between the competitors, Mary kept herself stern but confident with her combative nature. "Wouldn't be surprised if you spent your time like this often..."

"Bite your tongue," growled Vice, "or I'll bite it for you."

Mary chuckled. "Probably aren't gonna be biting anything for a little while after we're done here." A forearm of hers fell down across Vice's jaw as Mary pounded away at the murderous looks of the sharp-dressed foe.

From there, Vice rolled backwards and suddenly found herself on top again as she returned the favor with the tussle and pulled at Mary's face and hair as they both eventually found their way to their feet – and Vice grasped the upper-hand on a longer basis once she dragged Mary around and tossed her against the window at the side of the scenery, surprisingly not quite managing to shatter it despite the brute force consistently maintained. Still, it hurt like hell for Mary, whose spine tingled badly from the crossing studs across the long window – then she was met with a hard knee to the gut to force her to bend over, and then found herself being carried up onto Vice's shoulders for a trudging long time before being slammed down to the ground in a mirror to Mary's own successful takedown moments earlier.

Vice prepared to put the stamps down, but she was stopped from the very first stomp as Mary caught her by the fierce, sharp heel, twisting aggressively to level her and threaten a little taste of broken bones for the moment.

Vice's ankle rattled defiantly as she growled with frustration. "Urgh~!" Her other foot swooped up and kicked away the denying arms of Mary, as she backflipped and started to dive straight back down on her knees...

...but Mary rolled off to her right and evaded it – Vice's knees came down on the ground, just slightly denting as the aura of death burned red on the cracking indentation beneath her upon landing. She definitely felt the initial dull pain of her kneecaps hitting the floor, from the look of her frustrated grimace, but she quickly rolled the pain away and met eye to eye with her opponent as they shared the same half-kneeling pose some inches away from each other.

Vice smirked under faint praise for her opposition. "Smart girl. Most don't usually find their way out."

"You're gonna have to put me down for longer – there's your first problem," said Blue Mary. "Thing is, where the hell do you think the solution is?"

"I'll find my way around," said Vice – right before making the hard sprint towards her opponent with her shoulders charging forth.

Mary caught the tanned menace under her own arms, Vice's head embedded against the blonde's toned abs as she was forced down onto her knees – and Mary's arms eventually made their way around Vice's waist as she pulled in deep for the deadlift, though she found it somewhat difficult coping with the deadweight carry, especially with Vice's legs attempting to intertwine around her neck.

Once Mary's grip started to wane away against her body and the handling of her deep black suit, Vice eventually found herself being bluntly dropped right on the top of her neck, and her head nearly crushed in to meet level with her shoulders. Her body handled nearly upside down for an uncomfortable amount of time, but she wasn't quite left alone yet, as she felt her legs (just barely beneath the ringing trauma around her body) grabbed on once again.

Mary smiled confidently as the underneath of her arms straddled Vice's leg. "Hope you're ready for the ride~"

And what a 'ride' it was – Vice's body fumbled off of the ground as she was carried around like a numb ragdoll, spiraling limply as Mary made the revolutions at a surprising pace, almost peaking to the velocity of a small tornado as they both found the risk of extreme disorientation before long. The target for the release and toss was known, though, and someone was about to feel the wreckage dead-on.

"See ya later!" _CRASH!_

The window finally caved in on the second go around as Vice was chucked at it like a discarded sandbag, and her body quickly exited the frame of the now-shattered window over the smashed apart shards.

The light wind attempted to blow some of the shards Mary's way, but she shielded it away with barely any glass catching her way – she felt accomplished regardless with the work she did on her opponent, though potentially less accomplished than what she really _should_ feel.

"It's hard to tell with these ladies – she's definitely down, but is she out?"

She started to peek over the broken window, pacing around the scattered glass – she started the consideration once seconds passed in nothing but the sound of the nice summer breeze opened through the technically-open window, but as she eventually found her glance going elsewhere from the sight in interest...

"Ack!"

A hand stretched and whipped itself back into the scene, catching onto Mary's throat – and made the slow crawl back over the destroyed scenery, her neck cracking back into place as her face read in a way that made it easy to fear her.

"You thought wrong – far, _far_ too wrong..." Vice slowly helped herself over and back into the field of battle, like a fabled creep emerging out of the projection of a cursed tape, as she kept herself latched and squeezing away on Mary's throat to keep the airflow down for just a few moments; the toying had only just begun...

Unable to focus with her breathing having grown difficult with the clawing hand against her neck, Mary soon lost track of where she was going next – thus, she was left surprised to get propelled against the frame of the window, and promptly mounted by Vice afterwards as she continued to growl terrible nothings.

"Got anything to say _now?_ "

" _Grgggrhggl..._ "

All that could come out of Mary were gurgles of choking pain. Still, she looked defiantly irritated, eyebrows jabbing downwards with with disdain, as she raised a hand and smooshed it against Vice's face, with intent to potentially thumb the Orochi secretary's eye out.

Feeling the fingernail start to grace past the surface of her left eyelid, Vice did _not_ take kindly to the gesture – and she quickly raised herself up, then even quicker, slammed her knees down onto Mary's stomach.

" _Akh~!_ "

This elicited somewhat of a scream out of the blonde grappler – not just from the rib-crushing knees driven into her body, but because of the gruesome sandwich of pain she found herself with, thanks to the jagged points of glass off the broken window that still remained on the hard frame, threatening to dissect the back of her waist as she was scrubbed left-to-right-to-left against it.

Mary's legs refused to back down on behalf of her spirit, as she crossed them around Vice's sides and tried to crunch them together while she attempted to make the roll-around to find her way back on top. All she was rewarded with was another brief slam down hard against the glass-lined border, finding her way flopping further out onto the other side of the window.

Vice took way too much satisfaction in the blood and viscera she actively ensued beneath herself, continuing to grind Mary's back against the pieces of glass hanging by, cackling as the exterior of the window was gradually given that blood-drip pattern. All that welcomed her mouth afterwards was the wrong end of a taser.

Out of the belt pouch and against the teeth of her opponent, Mary fought up enough energy out of her choking body to slam the gadget and shove some voltage down Vice's throat, and it worked wonders considering the freedom ( _though a relative term considering the following events_ ) Mary was granted seconds later as unhanded her neck and grabbed the taser-wielding arm, yanking the detective out of the window and onto the ground while fumbling the taser away.

Safe to say that Vice wasn't laughing much after that once the taste of controlled currents assaulted her from the inside. The taser clacked and shattered before her as she momentarily joined it on the ground, on her hands and knees, as she coughed and gasped – and then she found herself unable to do either once Blue Mary had another hold of her and tried to curve back for a rear-naked choke.

Vice's sharp heels dug so deep against the ground that they nearly broke off, as she struggled the most imaginable against the chokelock, refusing to let herself fall down even though standing up wouldn't do much extra help against her neck being squeezed tight by admittedly strong arms that could give herself and some of her Hakkesshu peers some decent competition. All the while, her hands fought backwards out on her opponent's head, getting a bit of a grapevine squeeze on Mary in return; fondling, kneading and tearing at the detective's blonde locks, the secretary of utter ferocity showed further past negative numbers with fear as she continued to battle within her predicament.

Yet again, though, Mary showed her quick adaptation to maneuvers, swiveling herself around in erratic spins and rotations to prevent her opponent from getting direct contact to any positions where she could get free. She could easily just make like a tornado and swing around in the full 360, spinning and spinning until her mind was swirled with little difficult. There's the problem – she was already a little hazy from the first swingabout she did on Vice in the attempted ejection, anything further was probably going to be higher risk.

However, as Mary fussed about with more momentum against the opposition, Vice started to struggle out on her own, reeling her hands back and forcing Mary's neck to bend backwards, away from the action. Despite the strength and struggle, Vice managed to escape!

"No...!" Mary wasn't taking it lightly. "You aren't... going... anywhere...!" She lunged back in towards the escaping psycho, and pulled hard on the collar as she grabbed her...

...but during the reel-in, her eyes caught the little tattoo wrapped around the right side of Vice's back – which started to glow.

" _What the f—_ "

What came next was a splash of bright, gruesome red – but it wasn't blood; in fact, Mary couldn't pin down what exactly the fuck it was. All she knew was that she saw nothing but red and was down on the ground the very next moment, with a stinging pain over her back – as though a tidal wave just came through the window and splashed the hell out of her.

Her vision came back to being crystal clear eventually, and she saw Vice before her – the red-headed sadist seemed partly limp and noodley in her slumped movements as her back remained turned towards her opponent, as though the feelings around her body numbed and then returned to normal within seconds.

"Not bad..." moaned . "And yet..."

Her body flopped back – and leaned further... and further... until her hands palmed the ground in her bridged posture, with all the eerie nature of a woman possessed, right down to the cold stare, and the shrunken pupils gazing through her foe's soul.

"...Not even _fucking_ _ **close**_ to being good against me..."

As she stared into the abyss within Vice's eyes, Mary felt the usual warmth through her body start to fizzle away and make way for blood running cold, as though her skin could approach the nickname-appropriate shade of blue within moments – she couldn't think, nor speak, at the moment, as her brain went numb for a moment.

With that unconscious mind, Mary barely made it beyond the decision-making moment before she lunged herself up and tried to dive down on Vice's body to floor her. Instead, she found herself twisted around and slammed down on her back – and she felt the skin around the side of her neck suddenly get pinched and torn, rendering her eyes wide and her throat running raw from the scream escaping it.

A string of gore stretched between Vice's teeth and her opponent's neck as she reeled back, a big splatter of red on her terrifying smile. Her hand felt down on Mary's face, bending her neck as she took a good look at the blood pulsing out of the laceration resulted from the bite.

Vice found it difficult to be more turned on at the moment – well, in the case of not being alongside Mature; that was when her mind ran without restraint, which was not just bad for their opponent, but potentially _deadly._

Just to continue pushing her sadistic streak on her opponent, Vice jabbed a thumb against Mary's wound, squeezing at the right position to cause a brief squirt of red like a tiny fountain out of it. Mary's teeth gritted together as she tried to silence her further screams of suffering, but it didn't help matters – the 'music' to Vice's ears continued to her delight.

"Yes~! Scream for me, bitch!" Vice's hands completely wrapped themselves against Mary's neck, heading back to square one with her attempts to choke out her opponent – all the while, she pulled on Mary's body and lifted her up slightly before slamming her on her back and head, repeating her violent efforts again and again as the blood continued to paint something new out of the scenery, with the dark red liquid spreading over Vice's hands and onto the rest of Mary's neck and over her chest.

"I'll say this once, and never again – are you ready to give now?"

Vice's question met no answer, as Mary's gurgles of pain were all she had, as her skin slightly paled from the blood loss... however, she still had a slight bit more spirit left in her body before she fully fell away into unconsciousness.

One middle finger to give, held out from Mary's right hand, right in Vice's face. It helped absolutely nobody in the matter, but it clearly proved Mary's partial willingness to go down on her own terms, as it was the last she did with her hand before it loosened up, limped out and fell by her side.

Vice eventually broke away from her opponent once she sensed the last of her opponent's consciousness escape her bleeding body...

 **WINNER: Vice**

Vice couldn't resist but to lick up the blood on her fingers, partaking as she stood over her fallen opposition. Once again, the forces of the Hakkesshu made it past a formidable opponent, and she felt all too proud with what could be considered the closest to murder without actually doing the deed.

Something else came to mind, however – a nice floor like that doesn't deserve to be painted red like that.

With that consideration, Vice took Mary's body, and promptly heaved it out the window so that she instead rested ( _well, 'resting' in terms of a person still_ _ **actively bleeding**_ ) on the grass where the reds and the greens mixed filthily, and the Hakkesshu follower finished licking up the blood off her fingers after a job well done.

She didn't give a damn where Mary wound up next – it was someone else's problem now.

* * *

 **Next Chapter: Where do we go next, as the competition flares up to its last few matches in the second round, and as others lay on the sidelines? Find out in the next chapter!**


	38. R2: Athena Asamiya vs Moe Habana

Lien never took to drinking or smoking any more than the rare occasion – her stress was often relieved in the blood of others, being one of the few things that truly satisfied her anymore after the trauma she was dealt with in earlier years.

However, in a case like this, she'd rather be numb under the comfort of a cigarette than deal with her dissatisfaction over recent events – on top of that, it helped her relax as the skimpy Samaritan, Iroha, tried all she could to patch up the plentiful cuts on Lien's maimed body.

"Miss Neville, on a scale from 1 to 10, how badly does this wound feel right now?" asked Iroha, keeping a rag ready to catch the slow-flowing blood leaving the inches-deep knife wound of the patient.

Lien sighed, a light puff of smoke escaping her lips. "Honestly, I've got better things to think about than this; I just don't want this biting me in the arse if I don't deal with it."

"'Better safe than sorry'?"

Lien's eyes narrowed against the maid's. "I'm not sorry for anything. Neither will you as long as you tread lightly with where you're touching me."

Just as the threat bounced into Iroha's ears, the fingers of her right hand were treading dangerous territory around one of Lien's breasts – she was ensured to keep a professional profile under Elisabeth's blessing, but you wouldn't want to damn her for considering copping at least a feel. "Right..."

Off to the other end of the room, a faint flush behind closed doors was heard before said door opened – out came Yuri, still walking with an ache deep within her soul, as she approached her appointed bed; she had regained a little more dignity by this point, having covered up her torn leggings with a pair of similarly form-fitting jeans, though she kept on the rest of her gi as is except for the gloves no longer dressed around her hands and her headband having loosened and drifted down as a makeshift scarf around her neck.

Yuri had a slightly uncertain expression, one intending of relief, on her face, for what seemed to be the first time since her fight – she watched what went down in the Mignon/Lien bout, and she felt as though she could rest easier.

Lien rolled her eyes, despising the presence she shared with those she hated. "Don't even start, Sakazaki."

"With most other chicks, I wouldn't," admitted Yuri, planting a seat on the edge of her bed. "I almost kinda wanna make an exception with you, but that's _me_ speaking after... well..."

"I mean..." Alice rose up in her own bed, her leg still very much bound comfortably. Might as well expect her to stick around for the rest of the night, given her injury. "...you can leave it to _me,_ if you want – somehow, being the one with a broken ankle is the lesser of two problems."

"I dunno about that, Alice; in the interest of getting catty with each other now that we're all finished up for the day, let's be real here..." Yuri's eyes met the empty bed beside her – Mai's momentary absence was clear, with the kunoichi having stepped out to get a drink with King, conveniently minutes before Lien's own arrival. "It's not _us_ she should be worried about.

Lien had a brief gander of her own at the empty bed – but she didn't evolve much beyond her annoyed but relatively confident expression.

"'Worried'? _Piss off._ " scoffed Lien. "At least I managed to make it through this round a winner."

"It doesn't feel like it, though, does it?" Alice spoke up again.

"Alice's got a point," agreed Yuri. "Don't you even see how you look coming out of that?" Yuri's legs crossed around as she tried to look optimistic and brave with her debate against the assassin before her. "You and I have gone through a lot today."

However, Lien's scowl grew even more contemptuous about the comparisons that she considered absolutely inaccurate. "Don't even try to be smug – you've still had it far worse, and Elisabeth didn't even let you off with the win because your dipshit friend decided to jump in. Haven't even bothered to try to get that decision changed for your benefit either, have you?"

Yuri's self-assuring smile twitched a little downward to the thoughts in her head, but she wasn't able to ignore even the aftermath of... _everything_ that happened with her today. Besides, she probably wasn't in the greatest graces with Betty after the collateral damage in Round 1 and being denied an outright victory despite the knockout effort in Round 2, so saying anything about it wouldn't likely change things.

Alice made sure to step in whenever possible, leaning in as far as the binds on her fucked ankle allowed here; 'friends had to help one another', after all... "Angel had it coming – both the crutch, _and_ the punch!"

"True, but... let's be honest; Lien's not _completely_ wrong here – but... what Angel got after all that, was worth ruining my opportunity." Yuri's fists clenched beneath her eyes, as she shook with a little bit of extra frustration... "I'd love to do the same to you, but I'm..."

Lien stood out of her seat, casually shoving aside any obstacles. "Unable to garner the will to do so? After all you've been through today alone?"

Alice began to spur out again, her mouth opening to speak some defense for her friend – but the dull pain in her ankle made her attempt to throw stress elsewhere an unfortunate struggle, and she just couldn't speak for a moment.

Instead, Lien was allowed to speak her mind just a little bit further, without interruption.

"Or maybe, just maybe... the unfortunate Sakazaki thinks crossing her legs is going to help keep further 'intruders' out...?"

Yuri's feet stomped onto the floor with almost a cracking force, as she hurdled over the empty bed and immediately broke into Lien's personal space; the glowering expression she gazed up to Lien with said all that needed to be said about how she felt against the rival – a complete 180 from the pained, cowering mess of a girl some time earlier in the day.

Her fists, no longer bound by the cushioning of her gloves, shook even more intensely as she tried to discard the loose headband off her neck and shoulders – she looked like she was primed to strike the blonde bitch before her down once she was ready... but as the time passed in the staredown, nothing came of it yet...

Until Lien spoke again.

"Hit me."

Upon hearing the two words, Yuri's stare twitched against the Brit superior, and her fists lingered at waist level. She couldn't quite fulfill the 'request' placed before her...

It was all Lien expected of the girl, and she fearlessly dared further. "Go on – I'm right here. Battered, cut, bruised, but sure as hell not worried to take another pounding." She sealed up the proximity between herself and Yuri even further as she walked forward, slowly backing her against Mai's temporarily vacant bed.

"Punch me, slap me, tear at my clothes, stick a damn thumb into my wounds and _twist it_ – whatever you do to me right here, it was beaten out before by someone with more of a deathwish." Lien held nothing back to the provocation, and she absolutely knew it – and she also knew there was little chance Yuri was going to go ahead and beat her down, what with the trauma still likely fresh on that girl's mind. "Speaking of, tell me this – how does it feel that some pink-haired bimbo witch that barely anyone would care about can possibly bring more to the table, than the simple but effective, straight-forward karate girl?"

Fiddling the cigarette around between the fingers, Lien eventually flicked what was left of it at Yuri's face, to little budge. Her sinister fascination only grew as she saw the stern expression of Yuri stay, and her fists starting to clench further – she loved the conflict, and that there was no true way for the comeuppance to emerge at this very moment.

At least, she _thought_ there was – because for a brief second, there was an expression of surprise and confusion in Lien's eyes, as though she felt herself getting grabbed by the waist by what was clearly not Yuri's hands...

And then she found herself getting carried off the ground, and then straight into it on her shoulders! There was so much force put into the sudden suplex that her legs nearly flopped over the back of her neck before she rolled backwards and found herself back where she was seated against the wall.

Lien's hair fell out of place in spots as she soon reconfigured her sights on the one responsible ...and saw a maid with a fractured temper staring back at her.

"We're not having a fight go on in here – not under my watch!" demanded Iroha, wagging a finger out at Lien. "And not while you still have to be patched up!"

"The hell is wrong with you?" Lien questioned, as she should've, since she was just suplexed to Hell by a well-endowed maid. "Isn't your job to help people, not to _hurt_ them?"

"'Ensure order by any means necessary', that's what Miss Blanctorche told me. I didn't want to have to use force unless things were starting to get out of hand – but considering who you are, she'd consider it karma."

Her nerves cooled over seeing someone she hated getting battered in front of her, Yuri's frown fell as her shoulders raised to shrug. "'Karma' sounds about right for her."

Lien made her objection intensely clear: " _Bullshit_ – this is nothing but the world being against me; and I have half a mind to—"

She was promptly silenced by the sound of something chopping down by both her sides, and her anger subsided to make way for a track-stopping benumbing in her veins as she saw two butterfly blades stabbed into the chair mere inches from her ears.

All the while, Iroha straddled the aggravated patient, ensuing she stayed put as the maid made things clear as sternly as possible. "You're going to sit down, and keep quiet while I finish working with you – is that okay with you, Miss Neville?"

Lien's lips opened to attempt to retort... but she couldn't find anything to say on the surface – especially with the two knives around her that look like they could make a couple more wounds in her body needing to be patched up.

"Fuck..." she groaned, once she started to feel the stress get to her stab wound. Not worth getting pissed off at the staff when she was far below 100%. "You better know what you're doing."

Iroha nodded with confidence. "Anything to aid my superior."

The door creaked open again – and in entered Chizuru, catching Iroha's attention real quick. "Oh, Miss Kagura!" She fell out of Lien's lap and quickly bowed. "I-is there anything you need from me?"

"Maybe a hand with this would be nice – among other things..." Chizuru entered the infirmary with a body carried in her arms – the body of a recent defeat, Mignon, who seemed to _still_ be coping with the vomit voiding her system as it pooled out of her hanging-open mouth.

Lien sat back with a growing disgust, knowing all too well the mess her opponent made by the end of the bout. As long as nothing more upchucked out of the witch, she wanted no part of dealing with the whole ordeal.

"Uhh... maybe she could use a bit of cleaning first," suggested a slightly repulsed Iroha, taking note the bile slowly dripping from Mignon's mouth and onto the floor.

The door opened again mere seconds later "Iroha?"

Nakoruru was the next to enter, being gentle with her request. "A moment, if you would?" In her arms was Shiki, the lady freshly spat out of her own time, still knocked out.

Though she recognized Nako well, Iroha found herself unfamiliar with the snake-tattooed warrior, however. "...Wait... who is tha—?"

The maid was interrupted by the door swinging open _again._

" _Everyone move the fuck outta the way_ – this chick's not dying on my watch!"

To make a third interruption, Vanessa barged into the scene, kicking the door in as she looked disheveled and sweaty from what was likely a lot of running from where she was, on top of carrying the pale, still (thankfully) breathing but gruesomely gnarled body of Blue Mary – and there was more blood than was _ever_ necessary splattered between the both of them, potentially resulting from a bit of spray-back on Vanessa sealing off the bleeding in Mary's neck-bite wound by hand.

More eyes came across this than either of the other two appearances, mainly due to the fact that it looked like Vanessa and Mary came out of the wrong end of attempted murder ( _which admittedly was half-right on Mary's half_ )

Of all of the bunch, it was Iroha who was most surprised – though she probably shouldn't have been by this point; her work was never truly done, after all...

* * *

 **SECOND ROUND – MATCH #7  
** **Athena Asamiya vs. Moe Habana**

Athena was hooked from the prelude to the bout by the scenery the match was prepared to be set around...

The sunlight on the brightening green of the grass was as prominent as ever, the wind let her hair flourish like a beautiful flag – and it all led down to a large and lively tree. The Psycho Soldier was hoping it wasn't too distracting for her as she went into her second bout of the tournament against the relative-unknown darkhorse competitor.

Under revision, however, she probably could've been able to keep more of an eye on the surroundings. First hint incoming was perhaps the pink pedals flowing past her while she barely gave a glance.

Next thing she knew, as she approached that tree, she heard the creak of wood out the corner of her ears...

...and turned to see someone drop down a couple feet from where she stood – her opponent in Moe dropped into the fray amid falling leaves and further pedals of blossom rolling off from the landing breeze.

"So, you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," answered Athena, hands together, down and to her front. "I know you're kind of a lowkey competitor – it's really all up to you to prove you're not out of the league of the rest this round."

Moe adjusted the makeshift sweater-belt at her waist. "No sweat; I haven't been pushed to my limit yet – I have faith my Jeet Kune Do will have me going pretty far with this."

"Guess you have your methods sorted out."

"Kind of a Bruce Lee kind of girl myself. Can't reach higher than with the innovator. What does that make you; Norris? _Kareem?_ "

Athena shrugged. "None of them – I'm simply Athena Asamiya. You can't really pin me down to another celebrity – especially because, y'know..."

"The powers? Yeah, you got me there. Anyways..." Moe twirled into her side southpaw stance, continuing to be laced with the aura of blossoming flower-power. "You in?"

"Why _wouldn't_ I be?" Athena extended a glowing palm as she too took a stance. "Here comes Athena~..."

 _ **FIGHT!**_

Moe immediately entered the thick of things, perhaps too optimistically, with a forward cartwheel that narrowed the space while attempting to coin the first strike of the bout.

Athena kept herself out of the range of the feet flinging about, and steadied on the defense as Moe continued to keep close with quick side-knuckle jabs that were blocked away, depriving her of that first notch of damage heading into the start of the fight. Moe persisted with a slicing high roundhouse, but she whiffed and completed a 360 spin, just in time to get pushed back by Athena's double-palm strike straight to the gut.

And as Habana staggered...

" _Psycho Ball!_ " Athena flung her power out at the opponent, the ball traveling at a careful, straight pace.

Moe weaved to her left, towards the tree, and short-leapt against the bark. Her left leg hooked over at Athena's face, only to be blocked away, but the heart-shirted fighter continued to fight against the momentum and threw in another wavering left kick aiming midway, again blocked, before trying high again with a third go-around kick. The third time, the Psycho Soldier caught the kick by the ankle, keeping her opponent held down and steady for a moment – only to be caught for a loop when Moe spun her other foot over and clocked Athena on the side of the noggin when she had no choice but to brace with her hands busy elsewhere.

Athena was wobbled momentarily, and as she eventually faced back against her opponent...

"Sei-ya~!"

A 'flower'ful backfist smashed into the fighting idol's gut, popping her off the ground and having her drop onto her stomach against the grass! Unexpected and unprecedented, but not unwarranted.

Athena muffled her brief coughs against the green as she slowly picked herself up. "I hope I wasn't underestimating you too much..."

"There's no underestimating anything here..." Moe retorted, her hands beckoning up and her southpaw stance bouncing about from left to right. "C'mon, gimme your best!"

As she got up, Athena brushed a forearm against the grass dew that came off onto her face. "No need to ask me twice..."

Athena eased in with a ankle-aiming kick that was shoved away by a foot jab of Moe's own, and a couple more attempts bounced away before ultimately decided 'screw it' and did away with the idea for now – instead, she relied on the upper-body groundwork with her palm strikes. She managed a few successful hits, albeit not much beyond clipping with grazing fingers and knuckles, as Moe countered back at it with unpulled fists and unrelenting close-quarter blows.

Eventually the hands of both combatants intertwined and tied up around each other's forearms, leading to a momentary deadlock – a deadlock that was quickly pulled against by Athena's maneuverability as she sloped herself under and past Moe from under the strawberry-blonde's legs, before dragging her down with her onto the grass as they spent a moment to wriggle around over each other.

As Moe rolled over onto the bottom beneath her opponent, her legs wrapped over Athena's shoulders and made the biggest attempt to immobilize the Psycho Soldier with nothing but the grappling prowess. The most Athena could do before reaching a potential – and quite likely literal – breaking point in her shoulders was bring herself to her feet while lifting Moe's a couple inches or so off the ground, as they clung onto each other.

There was not much left to worry about the hold, however – one significant spark of psychic energy did a number on Moe's chest as it leveled her back down on the grass and forced a release, and she was sandwiched further against the ground as Athena hopped into a flip and slammed herself back-first onto her.

Athena took a hold of Moe's legs as she rolled further over and curved her body over as she carried her back off the grass – but Moe pushed her weight down and brought herself back onto her feet as she caught Athena into a headlock and dragged her against the tree. Her high kicks came in with swiftness, only to make contact with only the bark of the maple, mossy plantation on more than one of those attempts once Athena maneuvered narrowly past it all. Shaking off the prickly pain sporadically spread on her legs off the rough bark, Moe aimed straight ahead with a direct boot-kick towards Athena's face, but she ended up having to carry her momentum into a backflip as Athena ducked down and tried a ankle-low dropkick.

As Moe finished the revolution over the backflip, continued to swerve backwards away from another incoming attack...

" _Psycho Sword!_ " Athena swung up with a slice of energy, narrowly whiffing the attack, but she took the upwards momentum to her advantage and clung onto one of the reachable branches of the tree.

The branch broke off almost immediately, leaving Athena to drop back down – and as she had no need for it, she quickly discarded it and went back to dealing things out hand-to-hand, clashing again on a handful of times with fists to wrists with her opponent until Moe again caught her at a bad time with a jaw-jacker of a backfist and backed her against the tree.

Seeing the broken-off tree branch sitting just under her heel, Moe looked down on it and then back up to her opponent as she flung the branch up...

"Watch your head!" Off that preemptive proclamation, the punted branch spiraled off at an upwards curve and plonked itself against the tree bark inches above Athena's head with full means to catch the performer by at least a margin of surprise.

Moe cracked a smile, hands on hips. "Told ya."

Athena didn't retort with much except for an elevated jump kick, swinging herself off towards her opponent using the tree and the broken branch as elevation and clocking into Moe with two feet to the chest.

Athena connected with a couple more kicks to the side before Moe made an attempt at a retaliation with a florescent fist – which was denied easily by a shield of energy as Athena flaunted her defensive skills.

" _Teleport!_ " She warped behind Moe and cracked her in the back with another heel kick and a push-away palm strike to send her against the tree. She then jumped back in towards the heart-shirted brawler with another diving kick, but was caught into Moe's arms and slung back into the tree back-first.

Moe let go of the Psycho Soldier as soon as she threw her against the tree, and with a sharp kiai, she slammed into Athena's ribs with five knuckles of fury, with enough force to loosen just slightly the roots of the tree and budge it backwards an inch or so. She then swept Athena's legs, spiraling her upside-down, and then thrusted a forearm into Athena's gut, again pushing on the tree while pinning the psychic idol against it.

Moe couldn't help but smile, as even she was impressed of herself – she almost couldn't believe the amount of work she was getting on this girl – this notable face in the sea of ' _King of Fighters_ ' combatants

Maybe she was speaking too soon, though, given Athena's struggles to freedom leading to her pushing herself out from under Habana's arm with magical interference, and priming for another dive-down...

" _Phoenix Arrow!_ " Spiraling out from her upside-down predicament, Athena cannonballed herself down onto Moe and again squashed her against the grass, making good measure with the keep-down by dropping her legs down on the chest, across the heart-outline of Moe's shirt, afterwards.

After a roll backwards and then a brief leap back in, Athena turned Moe over onto her front with a sweep kick to the side of her head, and then jumped yet again. She was mostly convinced to give all she can with her less-experienced opposition, and she didn't want to simply say no to the idea, especially with potentially wilder and stronger competition to deal with in future rounds.

" _Phoenix... Arrow!_ " Athena again torpedoed onto her opponent's body with another downward slam, this time doing a number, or as much as she could do, on the spine with full force and yet at a point that didn't completely risk permanent injury.

Wasn't quite a fantasy the grizzled combat bouncing between the girls that were beating the beauty out of each other, even now with Athena's powerful maneuvers, but the reality was a surprise – hell, it was almost _startling_ by this point – as Moe was back up on her feet again, with slightly troubled breathing and hair increasingly stained by the dew of the grass. She still had yet to quake under the pressure; her body was taking on all sorts of bruises, but yet she was up on her feet with little regard to her actual physical condition.

Athena couldn't believe her eyes. "It's surprising to sense something still so strong in you – your body's rustled, but your heart..."

The sweater-belt around Moe's waist was untied and shaken around as she wrung the sweat and dew out of it. "Still beating to its own drum, baby~" Then she whipped it forwards...

...and it attached around Athena's left wrist before she could fully notice it incoming; she was caught offguard before she was reeled into another piercing gut punch by one of Moe's optimistic fists. Athena almost felt her lunch reach back up at the bottom of her throat, but she kept it down and then tugged on the roping clothing herself to regain action within the close combat with a driving knee into Moe's stomach. The trade-off balanced out in the violence as Moe pelted back with fists and Athena retorted with energetic palms.

Somehow, it went on for a long, jaw-crunching minute – Moe tanked the palms trading straight against the temples of her head like it was almost nothing, perhaps fueled too much on persistence to the competition and the opportunity to step up; in Athena's mind, there was an underlying hope the idol looks wouldn't get permanently beaten out of her if the pace kept up like this in future bouts, or even in the ending act of this match alone. It was probably right about time to end the match before someone steps above their level of intensity.

Athena eventually managed to put Moe into a daze with a particularly strong strike to the face, leaving her enough time to focus.

" _Hrrrrgh!_ " The aura of Athena's inner goddess finally met the beginning of its peak within the match as the purple energy rippled through the sweater and split part of it off while pushing Moe back into the tree – again with the tree providing a rough and painful wall to the unfortunate who wound up spiraling into it.

Moe continued to feel the hard exterior of the wood mash against her spine as Athena continued her refusal to hold back any more and ran rampant on her body with – at least one stomping kick managed to press its way significantly deep against the ribcage, but nothing was truly broken as much as it was simply budged internally.

Athena twirled backwards to give room for the final strike of the lineup, and charged it up over a pointed index finger; an orb of the 'psycho power' in the form of a ball akin to the match-ending energy grenade of Athena's previous bout – but notably larger, closer to the size of a dodgeball, and thrown just as aggressively under the strength of just the one finger.

"Eat this!"

The orb found its way against Moe's gut – and the energy widened out in a horizontally-spread blast, not only doing itself in on the opponent, but the tree as well as the energy ran through the wood from front to back. For once, it looked like she was particularly damaged, perhaps down _and_ out for once – and her eyes fluttered against their eyelids as she started to fight against the fading consciousness due to the wind, and some of her inner blossoming chi, being knocked out of her from the blast.

And then as Athena took a longing gaze to her opponent…

...that tree started to shift forwards. It wasn't just blasted by the energy – it was cleaved straight in half where it was hit. Not quite Athena's expectations, and when she took into account Moe's damn near KO'd body... well, it spelled disaster incoming.

"Oh crap!"

Athena didn't start to move from her position until the tree truly started to timber forwards – and she pulled onto one of her shoulders as they retreated from the deepest close proximity of the falling lumber, which was eventually halted inches from crashing against the grass by some of Athena's energy holding it at bay.

When it seemed safe enough to avoid even the potential scratches of the jagged branches coming down, did away with the levitation and dropped the tree there. It was by then, once the danger was dealt with, that she eventually realized that Moe's body had given up and limped off at her side in a numb splat onto the ever-rustling grass.

Since there was nothing left but to take the W and move on, Athena left Moe to rest there on the green – but chose to join her by laying down in an exhausted mess. Less of a choice on her own and more that her legs just couldn't handle any more of the stress at the moment and just kinda gave up on their own terms, and she decided to just... rest, pretty much.

"Okay," panted Athena. "I think we've both had enough for now..."

 **WINNER: Athena Asamiya**

* * *

 **A couple of factors kinda tried to pry me away from posting this within the week of this story's 1-year anniversary; initially intended to post it on the EXACT day but: some ideas for other potential stories tried to get in the way, and for some odd reason, my left leg has decided it wanted to cramp up and ache over this past week.**

 **Anyways, I've at least managed to keep the train rolling on the story, and I hope you enjoyed. Also happy 1-year to this fic.  
**

 **Next Chapter:** **Another little interlude with the folks outside of the second-round proceedings – where potential for tension of various kinds comes to rise from many directions...**


	39. INTERLUDE: A Rear-Ended Bet

The infirmary was probably the most packed it had been since the first round:

Blue Mary was actively getting blood pumped back into her body to make up for what was lost in the battle and the path over to more comfortable pastures – and Vanessa continued to be by her side, fighting the urge to drown her worries with alcohol by instead downing some bottled water.

Mignon Beart had finally purged all the 'demons' out of her system, and yet she was a few notches away from being comatose at the time being. Regardless, she was indeed getting better, even if slowly.

Alice's ankle – still healing. Nothing new there. Yuri chose to hang around by her side even though she was probably the closest to being 100%.

Lien's lacerations were properly bandaged up now, though she was still coping with the dull pain over getting suplexed by Iroha moments before. She was basically minutes away from being on her way out, but she had spare time to spend.

As for Iroha herself – she and Nakoruru were looking over Shiki while she had yet to wake up. At Iroha's insistence, they dealt with the whelming warmth over Shiki's body by allowing her to lay in the buff, with the maid personally stripping her. The reason given seemed a little bit too far outside the box, or at least outside of standards – then again, Iroha _did_ say this was what she often did with her 'master' back home during those especially _hot_ seasons, and considering how she was and how she was dressed... well, who would you be to shame?

Aside from that detail, it was only natural for the ladies out of time to hang by one another's side, being familiar most with each other for the most part.

* * *

"I was trying to help a friend get back to where she belonged... but then this happened... and I'm not sure what we should do for now..."

"And you couldn't... bring her right back out?"

Nakoruru's eyes lingered out at the skies beyond ceiling. "It takes so much power from the Gods to open time itself. I can't risk my strength re-opening it so soon – at least, not _yet._ "

"Hmm..." Iroha's eyes read up and down on the bare, tattooed back of as she contemplated her deep thoughts on the matter. The maid felt as though this eerie lady was someone she would've at least have been aware of in terms of legends where she used to be in the past.

Nakoruru could tell in the pure and delicate blue eyes of Iroha – which were probably a clash to her outfit looking outlandish and somewhat sensual in parts – that the eerie feelings of unsettlement and worry were shared. It started to feel as though it wasn't any less than a 'kindred spirit' sort of thing. In addition, Mamahaha's silent intrigue egged her owner on to consider trying to figure things out.

Nakoruru spoke up again... "You know, you really do seem out of this world yourself – at least with us compared to the most of the others here. It's almost intriguing... as though..."

"As though what?"

Iroha's eyes raised to attention – but Nakoruru couldn't quite bring herself to explain things with simplicity. The problem was there _was_ no going around things simply with time travel. It couldn't have opened elsewhere. At least, as far as she knew...

"Iroha?"

"Hmm?" Iroha's beady blues re-approached contact with the nature warrior before her.

Nakoruru met back on the eye contact soon enough. "I feel like there's a lot that's still been left out of my control – when it came to heading into this time period. If you could; I'd like you to try and remember when you were home last, and how you wound up here... I just want to grasp onto something with all this interlinking of time, between you... and her..." She felt as though she was surrounded by familiarities from her own era of time ( _even if at most just slight_ ) when it came to seeing others like Iroha and Shiki... but it wasn't quite right.

Meanwhile, Iroha was left at a major itch of nervousness as she made her attempt to elaborate. "It's all a little hazy to me – it's been months since I first found myself here..." She felt over a fingerful of her blueish-black locks, almost preparing to nibble on a hair to try and help over her stumbling mind.

"I remember I was fetching something for my master… we were starting to reach that point where our relationship was becoming... _intimate_... I may have been working too quickly to notice anything, since I was working with the plants and I... _fell in_ , I suppose?"

Well, the maid never said it was a graceful entry into a new world. Nakoruru figured as much that it was a matter of accidents...

Iroha continued, "I spent a couple hours wandering around until I found out I was somewhere in France. I couldn't understand anyone and they couldn't understand me. I was lost, until Blanctorche found me."

And thus the kindred spirit theory bounced ever so closer between Nako and Iroha – though the bird-bearer found it easier to adjust with her stronger experience in combat and nature. "Suppose you owe her your life, having to cope in a new world?"

"It's almost a miracle, right? A home, a job, responsibilities... it's almost a complete life, but I feel like there's something missing."

Iroha almost began to cling to even more parts of herself at this point, especially on her servant's garb. Her face approached a fade of red all the while, as she grew to admit something probably not worth discussing in the presence of others. "I'm not sure you know this, but Ms. Blanctorche isn't quite the, erm... the _intimate_ type." With the ever-enclosing upgrade to the relationship between her and her 'master' followed by it all falling away, plus that little factoid, it was a little unsurprising that she seemed... _heated_ – as in she was legitimately starting to work up a that wasn't intriguing enough of a sight, she began to pull about on even lower parts of herself – most notably, the pinch of black fabric that was the only thing preventing her rear end from being fully exposed to the warm air seeping through the windows.

Nakoruru was busy daring herself not to look on for too long. As the blush spread over to her, she gestured over at Mamahaha as quick as she was subtle about it as she began to leave the infirmary. "Just... keep a close eye on Shiki while I try to make preparations."

Iroha realized her sweaty nature and started to compose herself under what may have been going wrong. "Sorry – was I bothering you?"

Nakoruru was at the door by this point. " _Please_ – I have time to work before I forget..." The door closed shut.

And Iroha was left feeling like she may have scared someone away with her unsheltered needs. Despite her beliefs, there probably was _one_ other person in the room who started to get something out of Iroha's stilted urges.

…

Vanessa guzzled the rest of the water bottle in her clutches, siphoning it down to the last drop until she was pretty much crushing the plastic into an inch-tall clump. Even with that, she couldn't stop the sweat off her brow.

" _FUCK,_ " she grunted, crushing the bottle further into nothingness under a brawl-tested fist.

She couldn't help but admit it – it wasn't just her drunken mind from the other day clouding her judgment of some of the other ladies; even when as sober as someone not wanting to lose a liver, Iroha was as thicc as 'Nessy herself was tall. The problem here was that if it wasn't for her being around other ladies who could potentially catch her wandering eyes and noticeable body language—

"Uh, you okay?"

Oop. Too late. Yuri was already at the boxing redhead's attention, and same on the other hand.

Despite the shakiness, the clamminess in her hands as she made sure to cling onto something that wasn't Iroha's welcoming cheeks across the room – in this case, the bed beside her – Vanessa kept her breathing calm and quiet and tried to look composed.

"I'm fine." She was not fine. Imagine spending too much time away from the spouse / towards the booze, and it all came tits up to these urges. Though maybe it was _ass_ up in this case...

"Doesn't really look like it." See, Mary knew what was up. It had been a little while since _that_ match, but she was capable of holding a conversation again now that she had a bit of life ( _and pigmentation_ ) pumped back into her. "It's more like you're just working yourself up for no reason."

Vanessa fought with her words. "J-just give me a break, alright? It's hot out there. Careful with your neck, too, looks like you're still dripping."

" _You're_ dripping." Mary eyed the little droplet of red by the corner of her bed, and almost immediately linked it to its source. "You didn't bump your face carrying me around, did you?"

Vanessa had to double check – removing a glove and rubbing a hand against her nostrils, she could confirm the nosebleed. She couldn't confirm it was because of any stumbles in her swift rescue – it was 'Point A – Point B – back to Point A' without a hitch. There went _that_ excuse...

Meanwhile, Yuri had her attention away from the agents, now towards the flustered maid passing by her bed. "If it isn't that, I think I know what that's about..." She too had her eyes fixated on Iroha's butt as she witnessed the serving beauty shiver by the other corner of the room to herself. Unlike Vanessa, however, the karate girl could actually compose herself – one too many bad experiences, after all...

Then even Mary had her eyes on Iroha, with similar urges kept under wraps when it came down to keeping that close eye – her mind still hung over Vanessa's and what _she_ was thinking, especially after last time the dilemma emerged. "Please tell me it's just the drinks getting to you again."

Vanessa almost couldn't quite hear for a second there – her eyes returned to the smooth pastures of Iroha's curves again, seeing the maid at a rare moment of her being bent over as she reached for something in a cabinet.

Her mind ultimately went 'fuck it' on the idea of being subtle for long. "I think it _started_ with the drinks. Now I know it just isn't a sight through beer goggles." No doubt about it, that hot maid was threatening to turn her gay with that thong of hers.

Hell, Vanessa's next unfiltered proclamation further cemented that belief. "Mary... I'm not gonna lie – I'm about ten seconds away from locking myself in the bathroom and having at my you-know-whatlike a punching bag."

Mary almost grimaced over the unneeded visual. "As long as you aren't doing it while others can see."

"But you _are_ saying it in front of girls like me," noted Yuri. "There really a difference at this point?"

Vanessa retorted, "You're one to talk."

"Oh, not after today. This sparrow's gonna need to clip its tail for a while. Anyone else who tries to drive their tongue in me is going to lose a lot more than that if I get my hands on them."

Yuri's growing confidence rewarded her an "Amen, sister!" from Alice on the other side of what was formerly Yuri's and was now Mary's bed.

"You, on the other hand... look..." Yuri retreated a hand into one of the pockets in her jeans, eventually bringing out an undisclosed handful of "I will pay for your next round of drinks, if you step it up, and get yourself some of that cheek meat."

The offer was tempting, but Vanessa still considered the legality. "I don't know if I wanna trust that with a girl who's probably still too young for the hard stuff."

Yuri shrugged. "It's France, dude. Drinking age is 18 here. I may not want to get tipsy – but when it's legal, it's legal."

"Hmmm..." Vanessa's bottom lip softly slid left to right on her teeth. From there, she again took a look towards Iroha, and she swore she felt the rush of blood threaten to fall out of her nose again.

Then she looked down at Mary, who didn't feel like she had much input in the matter – and she was even more baffled when it came to the bet that was starting to form before her. "Hey, don't look at me. _You two_ are the ones talking butt stuff."

By this point, Vanessa was starting to gain some confidence out of this – now that it was being _actively discussed_ in public. It was a hard bargain, and it was probably going to be made harder with what she had in mind. "How about you make it double, if I make like Monty Python and convince her to _sit on my face._ "

It wasn't like her husband was gonna know – it was all private here, even if plenty would remember for much longer past the eventual end of the tournament. What mattered was that it didn't eventually spill out because of someone's loose lips.

The expansion of the butt bet rode that hard bargain over onto Yuri, and she couldn't help but blush sheepishly and smile at the overt deviancy vibrating off onto her. "...Fuck it. Deal."

And so, it was off to the races...

…

Even with those desires tingling slowly over her mind like a spider, Iroha knew she still had plenty of work left to do – after getting over the initial overwhelming sensations that threatened to wrap tightly on her, the maid's focus bounced from the resting Shiki to the unarguably traumatized Mignon, who had her face partially burrowed into the pillow. The pinkette's fearful, unblinking eyes, almost akin to a thousand-yard stare, were mildly apparent, and she hadn't said a word; the last time she even opened her mouth was to void and wipe away the last of the vomit.

"If I were you, I'd pull the plug on her."

Iroha turned her head aside to see Lien peering across from the corner, arms crossed and well-mended by this point of her infirmary trip.

"I doubt there's any chance of saving her after what she had to go through. Wouldn't be a total loss, thankfully."

"Is something the matter, Miss Neville?" Iroha's tone against the British blonde wasn't as friendly as before, an aftereffect of their earlier altercation. On top of that, Lien was fully patched up on her wounds by this point, and was free to head back to her room for further rest when needed – her acquaintance was unneeded now.

On the other hand, Lien felt she wasn't quite done here, given what was going on in front of her. "It's nothing." The bitchy grin on her face cracked into a snide chuckle before long. "…Alright, that's a lie; it's absolutely something, something about someone so _thirsty_ being able to work around others at a capacity like this."

"I can't help myself sometimes – I live to serve however one pleases. Don't dare shame me, especially around this lady resting over here." Iroha gestured to Shiki's body laying in the neighboring bed to Mignon's left.

"Hmm? And what's the deal with _her_?" Lien didn't bother paying attention to the new body – if it wasn't an important person, it wasn't hers to deal with unless she was in _that_ sort of mood.

Iroha detailed briefly, "Nakoruru told me some things – back home, it was said there were warriors who bore these tattoos that varied based on how deep they were under control of the darkness, 'pampered to kill' if needed, as they say." She provided primary focus towards the fully-exposed back of Shiki, and the blue snake inked in a vibration down her spine. She didn't want to touch that tattoo and risk awakening something awful in her. "Given what she has... I have a feeling she's not one to mess with once she wakes – and once she gets a hand of her weapons again."

The twin katanas that Shiki brought with her as she fell into this realm of time, were slung just to Lien's left, dangerously close within her reach. If that raven black-maned oddity wasn't to do damage, Lien could consider dealing with it herself. Would it be worth a whipping by Elisabeth's hand? Maybe.

But that wasn't Lien's heaviest thought. "Pampered to kill, then? Doesn't that sound familiar?" If the topic of 'kindred spirits' still hung around, then maybe... _just maybe,_ there was something she could

"Ngh~!" Iroha's returning whimpers of self-exploration again rung through, breaking her defensive concentration. The need was returning, and returning badly, flossing on her unmentionables like the thong tightly wrapped on her. "This isn't the best time for me to be getting into this stuff. Besides, you're not needed for now, as a patient or as an aid."

"I'm needed for more than you could possibly know," Lien retorted. "I like to savor things until it stops being fun – and you'd know me enough by now to realize how much I like the way you squirm against your _problems_."

Iroha was one more pulled hair away from suplexing Lien through the dirt again. Someone calling for her, however, was the concentration-breaker.

"Uh, 'scuse me, maid lady?"

Iroha turned back around to see Vanessa waving her over. Given the agent's placement in the room, the maid personally was thinking it was some extra aid needed for Mary – a little bit more of a blood refill, perhap—

 _SMACK!_ Her focus was sprung back around once she felt a hand sting on her rear. No points to the correct guess of who it was.

"Go on – be the good maid," egged Lien, knowing no boundaries with where her hand went.

After one more stern glare back, Iroha chose to ignore it and professionally carry herself off to whatever Vanessa's needs were – she would consider that assassin lucky she didn't meet the wrong end of those butterfly swords this time around.

Lien stood by with the cocksure grin retained, watching Iroha take her leave towards another contestant in need. Before long, she noticed her being escorted by that redhead agent towards the bathroom, enclosing themselves in a bit of privacy for something beyond her knowledge. Not like it was anything complex, however – Lien could easily assume the _tension_ that could be relieved in there.

Whatever. Didn't matter to her. Especially with what she caught out the corner of her ear...

…

"Mmmmmnnn..." Shiki stirred in her side-laying position, as she finally started to have a grasp of life in a world she would inevitably be unable to understand. She didn't quite want to move just yet, feeling too comfortable in the bed she laid on. Helped her stay composed in the thoughts in her head.

They never stopped. Never slept. She almost wanted to cry sometimes, but it always felt like she didn't quite know how. Like she wasn't allowed.

On top of that, the sensitivity within, beyond the nature of a controlled assassin, meant even the lightest feather-like touch was able to comfort her. Like the fingers grooming across her hair...

"Stirring so soon?" Wait...

Shiki couldn't quite make out any sort of familiarity in the tone of that voice, or the feeling of the leather glove sliding some of her black hair between its fingers. "What...? Who...?"

"Oh, don't worry yourself. Call me a guardian angel, if anything."

"An angel? No..."

One of those leathery hands wrapped under Shiki's chin, fondling her softly. "Take my word for it... don't be afraid, or irreverent, to it. All you really need to know, is that you're going to be in this world without any sort of understanding about why you're here. Don't take it as any different from where you usually are. If you have no choice but to, spill blood if you have to."

The imagery encircling Shiki's head – the blood, the gore, the horror. It all tended to bounce around when she was told of such things. She wasn't too scared of it anymore, too desensitized to it. It almost became arousing.

"And another thing... however they try to deal with you... it won't help. Don't trust them – not a single damn soul..."

Shiki's body bunched in her comfortable position. "Not a soul..."

Whether it was a voice speaking over her, or just something in her head continuing to manipulate her, Shiki felt no choice but to obey and keep it in mind – and her left eye glowed with that brooding redness...

And on the other end, as she stood over the soft-spoken warrior, Lien's plotting grin grew three sizes in that moment as she slowly slithered towards the door of the infirmary...

"Sleep well..."

* * *

 **In case you're wondering, there was legit a short song from members of Monty Python called "Sit on My Face". I only discovered it through googling with the term 'sit on my face' while researching for this chapter**

 **This was another one of those chapters I had a bit of extra enjoyment out of (much like the Lien/Mignon fight earlier in the round), but this was also something that went through a bit of revision, some bits of rearranging scenes. I have a feeling next chapter might be how I finish off this month, though I'll be lucky to get it done before October comes with my birthday being tomorrow as I write this.  
**

 **Next Chapter:** **The second round comes to a close with the classic encounter of ice and fire – Kula faces off with Nagase in a battle for human-weapon superiority!**


	40. R2: Nagase vs Kula Diamond

**SECOND ROUND – MATCH #8 (FINAL)  
** **Kula Diamond vs. Nagase**

* * *

While the rules kept interference at bay, Kula was confident with Diana's moral support. Now that the boundaries prevent even _that_ , she was truly on her own.

Not unfamiliar, but definitely dangerous territory for the 'Ice Doll' to cross. It'd normally be less troubling – but with her opponent, things had changed.

Nagase: not only a gang grunt under Mephistopheles – but one with _extreme_ enhancements to just about every part of her physical being, along with everything in between. Compared to Kula, she was as fiddled with in her small but capable body, but with double the intention to be a killing machine.

On top of that, she was just a straight up bully. It said something when that was the least of Kula's worries. Something about their first encounter where Kula decided to draw a goofy mustache on Nagase's face after KOing her may have had something to do with those worries, since there was no doubt a vendetta between the two at this point.

After giving Diana one more hug before making her way out to the battlefield, Kula came to realize the size of it once she arrived.

A few chandeliers hung above with some smaller compared to one being hefty above the center, lights not on due to sunlight being more than enough for the stage of combat. Then there was a graceful fountain off to the side – already something that could work to Kula's advantage.

The architecture caught Kula's childlike wonderment at its core – but yet again, something in the air just came off as... off. Again, given what she was set to deal with, she should have come into the prelude of the fight knowing nothing may truly be unexpected in the matter... but the smell

It smelled like... lingering embers... Up above her? Couldn't have been something too noticeable of an issue, other than the start of a disastrous arrangement against her – but the ice flowing through her hair read to her a danger on a stronger level, as she opened up her senses to more noise coming from the ceiling.

The brief sound of something snapping off – again looming above – immediately opened up those defensive mechanisms in Kula's brain, and as she quickly surfaced a strong plate of ice in her hands, above her hands...

...the central chandelier of the room crashed down – resulting from being completely burned off from the foundation – that thankfully didn't manage to crack through the strong ice let alone budge the girl holding it.

The expression of primarily focus on her face didn't do enough to explain the thoughts in her head – the scenery was clearly deception to the benefit of her opponent. Despite the heavy lift helping her out of immediate danger, the detriment of it was even clearer...

What hit her next, hit her as sharply as a dagger to the ankle.

As in she was _quite legitimately_ hobbled by a dagger slashing past her ankle.

Not enough to separate a ligament, but just the slight slice was significant enough to stifle her footing for a moment, even if just that. Her leg twitched out of position briefly, but she still kept her stance even as her eyes bounced left and right around the room as an abject sense of childlike paranoia tried to crawl into her.

She knew Nagase was there – on a level of _some_ sort, at least, deep beneath simply sight. Couldn't see, couldn't even quite sense the locale of the cloaked tech-ninja creeping around.

Then another slash wooshed past Kula's body, trimming a little at the purple leather past her side as it left just the second of what was likely to be several cuts she'd receive during this match. By this point, the weight of the severed chandelier atop the ice began to give way, and the struggle to multitask made entry to a solution that she could only make in the short-term. All the while, she could eventually start to see the tiny subtleties of the cloaked being passing her by again and again by the third slash past her right elbow – the little bits of dust being dragged in certain directions through the air and on the ground.

The method was clear: make an educated guess – and just toss everything to the wind. All Kula needed was a placement of a foot in just the right spot...

…Luck would have it, as she spread her feet wide in a range around her, Kula felt a thump of something clash over the extended foot...

...and just like that, the complete advantage that Nagase felt she had was at jeopardy just because she was too cocky to look down at her own boots. The first, fairly early mistake of her own result, and her invisibility even started to give up on her just like times before.

Kula heaved backwards and then swung her upper body forwards to slam it all down on her opponent...

...but Nagase made her last-second reflexes count as she translocated herself upwards – just as the ice and chandelier smashed down against the ground. Before the no-longer-hanging lights shattered in the potentially insane mess this sort of slamdown would make, snatched it by the burnt handle and swung in a vertical spin like a ball-and-chain as she prepared to 'return to sender' by smashing that chandelier back over Kula's head.

The lights only met more solid ice as Kula quickly shielded herself, and the end result was further amounts of glass, jewels and other miscellaneous things splattering around the room.

The girls eventually gave way to space between each other as Nagase landed a little ways' away from her opponent, and Kula opened up her guard for the moment as a staredown was soon agreed upon between the tempered bunch. If the clash simply engaged faster and harder from there, they'd exhaust each other too quickly, one would bet.

"...You got lucky, with that one, alright?!" Nagase pointed a frustrated finger at her icy rival, briefly fidgetting with one of the straps of her red undershirt beneath the orange garb. "I'm not letting you off with that trip-me-up shit again!"

"..." There weren't enough words in the world to truly detail Kula's dislike of fire – and even more struggle putting into words her here-and-there rivalry with Nagase; it wasn't like it was all that necessary by now after the amount of flame-bearers she passed by in her lifetime of bloodsport. Her gloves tinged with a frozen hatred as she kept her thoughts behind closed lips...

Nagase's frustration slowly subsided as she recollected her composure for a moment... "Alright, I get it: you hate me, I hate you – fire and ice rarely ever get along in this sort of crap. Either way, I'm cuttin' up a shit-kid tonight. Maybe even more – I'm sure Angel would be pretty damn satisfied."

Kula's outstretched hands at her sides dropped slightly, and her silence eventually broke... "You... you know her?"

Nagase scoffed, gaining a bit of smugness on that punchable face of hers. "Before today, not really – but I've had my time to get to know her, and..." – she was almost shamelessly blushing at the thought. "Well... I don't kiss and tell..."

The revolving image of that thought in her head left Kula absolutely disgusted... "Both of you, you're... both gross, _gross_ bullies!"

Nagase took zero offense to that. "I wouldn't want to argue who's worse..." She had a hand on the hilt to one of her resheathed daggers...

...and within the next second, she had zipped closer into Kula's face, the dagger slashing out only to clash into an icicle formed around Kula's left hand to block it off.

"...but if you want me to consider some... _sick and twisted_ kind of oneupsmanship with her, see who can get in _deeper_ – I'll be damn glad to carve this Barbie doll up!"

Kula retaliated immediately – she spat out at Nagase, coughing out her icy breath onto the rival's glasses to disadvantage her, but she was met back with a responding headbutt smashing down onto her delicate skull, as Nagase then dropkicked her and sprung back out.

Nagase kept her disdain at the door with even less elusiveness in the trigger-happy middle finger she sprung up. "Don't. Mess. _With the specs._ "

Setting aside her newly-bruised forehead, Kula kept her arms out with combative focus growing within, and the aura of ice welcomed all her strength. "Kula... is ready!"

 _ **FIGHT!**_

Kula took little time to go through her arsenal of arctic annihilation, her hands slamming down against the floor to form an ice puddle that quickly extended towards her opponent. moved to her craft just as quickly, with a cocky spin into a dagger stab down against the floor, providing enough artificial heat to her blade to split the ice trail down the middle and prevent anything out of it.

Kula skated in for a closer look on her rival, just as Nagase extracted the blade from the floor and swished up with it – Kula swiftly limbered backwards to avoid catching the blade in a real bad way, and flung her momentum into a backflip to kick the blade out of the wannabe ninja's hands and up high into the ceiling for a brief spill of hangtime.

Nagase took out her other dagger and decided on some straight-forward slashing, but she couldn't commit to a fresh drop of blood out of the 'Ice Doll' that swerved side-to-side past the attempted strikes, with barely targeted motions and increasingly impatient swings – at the end of the moment, she went forward with tackling Kula head-on, but she was soon shoved back with two refusing palms, and then a harsh block of quickly-formed ice to the gut to send her back into a half-kneeling position.

The stray blade caught Kula's eye not long after, and with a ballerina twirl, she gave it a hard tap forward with a flick of the heel, in a case of return-to-sender, preferably into an eye.

No chance at all for that; Nagase caught what was rightfully hers and carried on with her persistent assault – she pursued with a spinning-side handspring into a backflip kick that axed down into Kula's blocking hands to break them away. The honeybee continued to push through with some swiftly twirling heel kicks that she didn't even need to look back as she managed to connect a couple for a moment.

Eventually, Kula caught up with the pace, catching the right foot and attempting to put it to a chilling halt with a freezing touch – but she was promptly clocked aside the left side of the noggin by Nagase's free leg.

After Nagase laid in on a couple more throttling kicks on Kula, including one cracking down on one of the chilly opponent's knees, the weight of the ice encircling her right ankle – and the dropping temperature alongside it – began to hold down on her. For the most part, she shrugged it off; no biggie – she knew the most effective method of getting rid of the chilly nuisance...

…which was by smashing it away with a roundhouse over the other side of Kula's face – particles of the ice spread far and wide across the room, and along the ice-bearer's body itself as she spiraled into a splat. Not for letting up, Nagase started to trample down on Kula's prone body with an axe-kick stomp, proving to be irritation on the Ice Doll's point of view as she struggled to get up under the impatient feet of her firey rival.

"At this point, might as well say 'hands off' on _all_ of this," Nagase gestured over her whole body. "I ain't risking hypothermia on top of dealing with your little shitty face." She'd be down to stomp that 'shitty face' into paste if the 'Powers That Be' were willing to let it be...

Kula's patience was next to start breaking apart... "Ngh!" Slamming her palms down on the ground, she sprung herself back up with two tough geysers of icy mist as she flung through the air and came back down with a leg right atop Nagase's skull, with enough force to loosen the specs slightly – just as the rogue ninja panicked slightly from that, she was as quickly relieved when the follow-up kick from Kula upside the chin helped the glasses back into place. Regardless, the short fuse of Nagase was starting to spark up again as she clutched the panda-ball handles of her daggers tightly and brought it down for a slice upon the shoulder...

...which Kula narrowly blocked before it made contact, again bringing the frosty burn upon Nagase's body. The light metallic armoring of Nagase's gloves, however, helped a slight with the issue, as she managed to retract before it came to the condition that her leg was in just a moment before. Such a shame, if anything, the hard ice seemed like a bit of a multiplier that could be stacked on top of an already harsh blow.

Instead, Nagase opted to leap onto Kula's back and drop herself like deadweight onto the ground to drag the Ice Doll down with her. She still had a handle of her blades as she rolled like a wheel with her rival until she came out on top of the exchange. However, Kula tried to reverse this situation by rolling forward into the other direction, but all she succeeded in was getting herself locked into a tighter chokehold.

With a stretch of her hands down towards the floor, Kula brought her ice aura down, and a solid block rose up to elevate – at the same time, the harder, rougher substance and its unique width pushed a toll of sorts upon Nagase's back as she didn't quite adjust to the newfound elevation.

With that, Kula found freedom from the blood choke, and with a whipping up-then-down force, flung her body down onto Nagase's gut – and the ice cracked in, revealing a bit of hollowness in the block as it pushed Nagase in.

At first, it wasn't too much of a hamper on the ninja girl – she merely had the wind knocked out of her and a bit of ice chips splattered over her body ( _just barely getting pricked by a couple of them along the way_ ) – but as she adjusted to the uncomfortable 'bed', she sensed the element shifting around her to a detriment...

...All of a sudden, the ice rebuilt itself – and all that Nagase was able to stick out of the revitalized block were her head, hands and legs with everything else. To make the shit luck even shittier, the disorienting smash prior left her blades to drop out of her limping fingers – and now she couldn't even budge her hands down.

" _Urgh, god dammit!_ " Nagase fused frustratingly to no avail; brute forcing it was out of the question – the better idea now was to build enough in her fueling flames, but even then, it needed a moment...

Knowing her flame-bearing opponent decently enough, Kula considered a little bit that Nagase's freedom from the square sculpture was inevitable, but as someone with a youthful mind like hers, she didn't quite consider the long-term.

She spent more time with the taunting, plopping a seat atop the block inches from Nagase's face...

"Bluuuuuh~!" ...and poked fun as she usually did, with a pull of an eyelid and a fluttering of the tongue – the ol' classic 'akanbe' taunt...

Nagase growled, "This doesn't mean I lose, y'know!"

"I know," giggled Kula, "but it's pretty funny~" She managed to find a smile again – this would beat facial sabotage via Sharpie anyday.

On top of that, something else eventually caught her eye as she took a longer look at Nagase's face, and the specs hanging slightly against her poky little nose – a little something called _curiosity._

"Hmmm..." Kula's clingy gloves tittered on the ice for a moment as they approached closer to her firey foe's face.

It wasn't until she felt a little bit of fondling upon her ears that Nagase realized just what was about to go down – and she was unable to act on it just yet. "Kula, no."

"Kula _yes._ " Kula brought her hands even closer, grooming over Nagase's face.

The honeybee was about to hate this even more, as the glasses started to pry completely off her face.

As soon as they were flipped over around and slid onto Kula's face, surprisingly correctly despite her inexperience, she took a quick liking to it.

Nagase grimaced deeply in offense to this – not only was it basically stolen goods at this point, not only did it seem like that girl do all she was doing to piss her off, but in her opinion, Kula looked just plain fucking _stupid_ wearing the specs.

"Oooh~ pretty...!" The orange tint over Kula's sight caught her attention and her feet casually kicking around – and a whole lot of text sparkled around. Including something that maybe caught her eye a little too late...

"Huh?"

The specs happened to detect Nagase's face on the other end through its deep and quick analysis – before long, the orange went red, and some noticeable text came up front and center in big letters:

 **THIEF_DETECTED**

The very next feeling that wrapped around Kula's head – in beyond a mental sense – was a warping volt of electricity vibrating violently through her head; she squealed in a surprised pain as she immediately threw the specs off and felt at her face with her cold gloves in an attempt to mend the burning feeling afterwards from the electric outburst that attempted to fry her brain.

And then before she knew it, she was propelled up into the air by an explosion bursting through the ice – ice shards and flames blasted out as Kula found herself close to hitting the high ceiling of the room.

Nagase found her way up not long after, higher and higher through the air until she wound up behind Kula...

...Her arms linked around the ice girl's waist, reeling backwards into a literal downward spiral towards the floor...

...and the famed 'Izuna Drop' culminated into a hard, smashing fall!

The poof of dust from the hard foundation of the floor smashing away into a tiny crater cleared quickly – it was all momentarily left to unmoving silence, until only one shadow of the bunch sprung out and dismounted at a fair distance away from the fogginess of the aftermath.

The stray glasses eventually found their way out from the sky and into safe hands, and Nagase wore them proudly.

As she turned her head towards the regretless destruction she made, she was already liking what she saw as the air cleared, as from where the floor cratered, was Kula's oddly-posed position – with her knees clinked beside one another, her rear curved up in direction towards the ceiling, and her head actually burrowed through the floor like a scared ostrich, it was highly presumable of the girl's fate.

And Nagase chose to presume her work was done, as her eyes next found a camera in one of the corners of the room, staring down its lens and the viewer beyond it.

"Ring it up, host; I think I'm done here...!"

So sure of it, the ego-ridden ninja – unsurprising how much she was presuming only from the silence of the matter.

It was going to turn into nothing _but_ surprise for her before long, however... Her ears settled at attention towards her opponent again – who she _thought_ was out of it, until the muffled groans happened to vibrate under her feet.

Kula's body wriggled as she clung her hands onto the floor in a somewhat-conscious struggle to pull herself free. Her legs struggled off from the knees and onto the rolling heels of her boots, and her waist curved down towards the as she lifted some extra weight ( _not a whole lot of weight, to note_ ) off of her upper body. It was far and beyond confirmed now, that she was down but not out.

This, much to Nagase's seething frustration. "No..." Her fists clenched the hardest; the overwhelming 'tumor' that was her ego was the most empowering motive to her emotions, and it started boiling with agitation like an over-fried egg. The accomplishment, the closure, and best over all, the suffering of an 'Ice Doll' – where the fuck was it at this point?

She didn't spend enough time considering just the similarity of toughness between her and her opponent – she would much rather be pissed off and let that fuel her as she finds out that girl's limits herself. The daggers were coming back out...

...And as Kula started to find a little leeway to loosening her head out of the foundation of the floor, she was shot by shock as she was re-pinned down by her hands – which were stabbed down, one before another, by Nagase's daggers, finding one end to the other shanked through. The pained whimpers of the girl that was normally 'cool as ice' were muffled by the shattered layer of concrete underneath, leaving struggle to the screaming as she kicked a little harder.

Nagase had a feeling that there'd be a little bit of moving around on her victimized opponent's side, as she moved quick to physically stabilized the struggle by bringing herself up behind Kula, pulling on the icy blue locks that were still freely hanging out from the head-burrowed hole, and straddling her in a deeply – and most definitely intentionally – compromising position. Hips to hips, front against rear, something that Nagase had a devilish liking. Unsurprising with the idea, but all the more vicious on the delivery.

Kula's muted moans continued, " _Mmnnh~...! Nnnnhmmh...!_ " Nothing but stifled pain to sound off from the hole her head was still fighting its way out of – the daggers through her hands didn't help... and the blood was only _now_ starting to drip its way out from the hole left through the gloves.

Nagase kept a foot pedaling over one of Kula's shoulders as she pressed slightly, just to get a feel of the arm bending just a hair out of place. "Just shut up... keep your face in the dirt... and embrace it like a woman would." A lot could be said for someone who probably wasn't that much older than the rival she was talking down to. "This'll be over soon – this, I _promise._ "

As she asserted herself at the peak of the battle, Nagase continued to handle her hands around the body of her opponent with no care to inappropriate placements – and she kept a tight tug on the leather bodywear of the ice girl for as long as she felt like it.

But how long she felt was maybe too long for her own good, as she paid no mind to Kula's wriggling legs beneath her, and those legs managed to cling themselves and crunch in on Nagase's waist – she didn't take it as much as a just a clingy minor nuisance and left it be… up until she felt the lift of something power over onto her. That was when the emotion started to turn, as did the realization.

Never doubt a creation of NESTS.

With nothing but the impaling blades embedded into the ground being the foundation to her strength, Kula flipped her own body forwards with all the force she could muster in her ice-fueled body – as she finally managed to bring her head out from the ground in the catapulting effort, she drove Nagase down on hers, allowing the two to share time on the ground.

Not for long though, as despite being dropped right on her head, Nagase managed to spring back to her feet. "Oh, what the _fuck_...!"

She shook away the dust off her unorthadox hair – and as she set forth herself as the first one standing, she came to notice the ramifications from her concussed state as she could barely stand still without her legs struggling and stumbling beneath her body.

She watched as finally found her own way back to a proper fighting stance, flipping back over on her stomach and then pulling the blades in her hands free from the ground – the blood dripped freely from then for the coming moment as she slid forward, eyes showing a new lease on unemotive focus.

Nagase's feet planted firmly where they stood as she kept close nothing but her hand-to-hand capabilities, and once Kula came close, the fists came flying out – with the exchange going on, she came to notice the improvements her opponent already made in avoiding the assault that was being tossed at her. What Nagase also realized was what came of the daggers embedded in Kula's hands – the seeping blood had found itself becoming solid red ice that shared the sharpness with the daggers it encased. Now it was a weapon spun off of her own weapons, being used against her.

At a desperate point, Nagase brought out the shooting-star shurikens and left them spinning swiftly in her fingers as she tried slashing out with the little, fierce projectiles. One shuriken even wound up getting sent straight up to the ceiling while Nagase finally got a notable kick down in the exchange, and grabbed the handles of her daggers. Note again, _her_ daggers – a reclaim of what was completely hers, and she was certain that her opponent deserved _hers_ as well.

"Get your own!"

The blades left the 'comfort' within Kula's stabbed palms and wound up in her hips, Nagase shanking them in deeply with an increasingly crazed smile. The honeybee ninja imagined far more than enough fantasies with what she wanted to do with the ice doll; to see the blades slice in whatever direction she pleased, to spread that blood, gore, viscera, whatever the fuck she pleased, and to see that horrific expression of pain bounce once again upon her face—

…

Kula's face didn't read of pain. Not at all. Hell, it didn't read much of anything at all, besides a cold and angry stare. That _fucking_ stare did the general amount of surprise as you'd expect for someone on the wrong end – couldn't figure out just how bad it looked until it was too late...

Partway, that one high-flying shuriken caught Nagase's eye in one particular second... In the next, a single smack of the palm forward sent the 'shooting star' into uncharted territory – in through Nagase's chest, out her back with a matching exit wound, and welcoming a new fresh splatter of blood over the back of her outfit alongside an unwelcome phase of pain on her face. Firing through her like the blast of a revolver, Nagase recognized just how much she couldn't be able to bear it like a simple cut.

Her knees buckled underneath her as she started to fall forward, but she found herself stopped halfway, and felt the wound get pressed through again – an icicle rose through the ground at her rival's request and stabbed Nagase through with a frosty ferocity. She came to realize a little too late that she had let go of her weapons along the way, and before consideration to her superhuman abilities came what was forced upon her whether she liked it or not – the endurance of the maintained pain through her widening chest wound.

On the other end of the battle, Kula stood tall over her opponent – the daggers were still down to the base of the hilt in through her hips, but she paid zero mind to it by this point. The adrenaline of competition and the intent to defeat that which vexed her the most, was all that she carried now. No more consideration to her childlike wonder, all there was left was a machine.

Nagase looked up, looking just a bit more impatient and irriated than she usually was. "Now that I think about it, I'm gettin' tired of letting myself get torn up like this... wanna just get this shit over with?"

"If that's what you want," Kula responded. Even with the agreement, her perception of ending things was beyond her opponent's intent, as she summoned up more from the ice flowing through her veins, sculpted with perfection into the form of what looked to be a particularly heavy sledgehammer.

Despite the danger, Nagase regained a smile on her face. "Had a feeling you'd think it _that_ way." The one spotlight she managed to check that Kula didn't, even if only a slight detail to the closest eye, was the ice spike slowly melting under the honeybee's built fury.

The spike eventually found enough of a desolidified state to bend and break off, and Nagase handsprung forward to grab one of her daggers, yank it quickly out of Kula, and then managed to slash it across, upwards from the belly, against her. A high-rise of blood resulted from the slice, and Kula was partway into the rising swing she put into the ice hammer prior to bringing it down – instead, she ended up throwing up it with her lost grasp, and it flung in a spin, higher and higher...

...before it crashed _hard_ against the ceiling, cracking it further. A problem then rose from there as the cracks didn't stop forming.

"Oh shit..." Nagase made something out of it, but it was hard to say whether it was a severe mistake or a eureka moment. To her, definitely the latter once she saw Kula start to buckle before her. The zipper to the purple outer-suit was split apart by the slash and a gash opened straight down the middle from beneath the neck to the belly-button. That was not the only place where blood drew, as Kula struggled with the dagger that remained in her left hip – in turn, drawing a little excess redness in the spot where it sat – and did her damnedest to stay on her feet while she fiddled with it.

"Kula... it's been an honor kicking your ass, but I'm-a let you bleed out over all of _this_." Hard to say if there was anything about leaving the premise of the battle before a point that confirmed their opponent's defeat, but Nagase decided to take that risk, giving a farewell middle-finger salute and running for the door.

Only problem: the door was suddenly iced off. It was also the _only_ door to the room as far as either person knew.

Not a total seal-off, but a nuisance nonetheless to Nagase. "...Well... I guess just opening the door's out of the question. You do realize I can just teleport out of here, right?"

Kula's response in the midst of the red filth coming out of her, was to immediately glomp onto Nagase, who took it as well as you'd expect from anyone being grabbed by a person who was actively gushing blood.

"Hey, what are you—don't spread that shit on me; I don't wanna catch whatever you got!"

"I was always told to face my hate head-on if I ever wanted to be the person I wished to become," Kula said. "If I can't find myself to beat it, I won't let it beat _me_ either!"

Nagase fussed around, now dirtied with Kula's own blood. "Okay, you pixie cunt, you have your life lessons, but I don't want none of... huh?"

Before she could finish her sentence, Nagase realized that the blood wiping off onto her was running terrifyingly cold – and she was finding herself getting encased from the neck down to her toes in a clear but blood-smeared block of ice alongside someone she'd rather not share these times with. On top of that, the technology she had on her, a mere helping hand to even the simplest of her abilities, didn't know what to do with all that ice fogging up its functions, so that went out the window pretty easily.

All Nagase could do, being able only to function with her neck, was to look up and see the rubble of the ceiling come apart and slowly fall in an avalanche of pain she couldn't escape from. What was about to come down on her, was gonna suck.

"No good ice-glazed cun—"

The landslide cut it all off once it landed on the competitors...

…

…

…

 **End Result: DRAW**

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** **The second round may be at an end, albeit under some controversy, but the night is long and it can only get** ** _more_ controversial from here.**


	41. POST-ROUND: Cope and Hope

As it became clear through the rumble of the last battlefield ( _what's left of it, that is_ ), all that was meant to end well, instead ended quite poorly in the second round. With the controversy of the draw-decision finish, it was down to an uneven 7 competitors – for now, at least – and one would bet there'd be quite a bit of trouble behind-the-scenes with Elisabeth and Chizuru, figuring out what to do next...

As for competitors, both winners and losers, the end of another round meant more time to cope with the end of the action – and there were many mechanisms in play, all happening in a single building...

* * *

 **Coping Mechanism #1:** _Get to know someone new to get over things._

'Any means' was probably exclusive to the likes of Angel, the consistent irritant to the competition with her increasingly uncalled-for antics both in and outside of the fights.

And then in came the Nagase/Kula bout, which became the most must-watch bout for her given her newfound friend in one corner and a total hate-boner for the other.

Once she figured the match ended the way it did – presumably after smashing the TV she watched it on – she walked out of her own room and kicked open the nearest unlocked door without even the slightest need ( _to give a damn_ ) to knock. "Hey. You busy?"

On the other end of the newfound conversation, the barge-in actually somehow found a grin upon an ever-sexy Shermie's face. A pleasant surprise to her, and honestly, also a welcome one at this rate. She straddled the bed she sat upon with a sultry intrigue... "What's the occasion, _cheveux blancs_?"

"When you're rootin' for one chick and hatin' on another, it takes a lot to be this god-damn stressful." Angel fought the urge to tear open her cleavage-welcoming leather jacket. "I almost wanna tear someone's clothes off right about now."

No lying here – the ideas scrambling through Shermie's mind already were willing to ignore the problems ahead. "Reasonable – I'm not one _not_ to recommend stripping a stranger to the buff; sometimes you gotta go through someone's tongue to know them."

Angel couldn't quite get the analogy through her head the right way. " _French people, I swear to God..._ Alright, _cariño,_ I'll play this fucking game."

The NESTS biker was on the admittedly-bumpy bed of Shermie's within seconds as she grabbed the Frenchwoman by the hips and went tongue-to-tongue with her, the gesture returned in kind as Shermie's hands found somewhere to hold on the short sleeves of Angel's leather jacket.

The two bodacious bodies coming together was a sudden sight and all the more welcoming as clothed breasts rubbed upon one another with one pair of stiffening nipples beneath cloth nearly magnetizing to the other pair under rough leather – if they were capable of conducting some sort of element from the friction, they probably would. As the two bumped boobs, the focus descended primarily onto the mounds clashing with one another as Shermie and Angel found themselves with difficulty trying to press lips while rubbing on each other like this.

Shermie sported a fascinated blush as she let her chest continue to mingle with Angel's, with jiggling galore. "Ohh-la-la~ are we tit-wrestling now – how's _this_ gonna work?"

Angel chuckled. "Hey, you tell me – from the looks of it, we got ourselves the same cup size. Dunno what cup you'd call 'skull-crushingly huge', though~"

"'Skull-crushingly'? You must be a danger girl of sorts, huh?"

"I break legs on a basis." In some cases for Angel, sometimes the leg-breaking happened for her. "If you got that sort of kink..."

"Barely a minute with you, and I'm already starting to like the way you think..." Of course Shermie would like it – her kinks hit no boundary just yet... "Though don't take it from me whether or not we go to that approach – it's always better when you got a third party on the line..." Her hands reached down on the bumpy sheet-pile that laid on the bed,

…and out from under the bedsheet sarcophagus revealed Ash's freckled smile. So that's where he went, huh? " _Pour être honnête_... I'm down for 'anything goes', but I'd rather my load busted than any bones."

Safe to imagine Angel's puzzled reaction didn't do justice just how weird this situation started to look now. "Who the fuck...?" She turned her eyes back up towards Shermie. "What kind of thing are you working with in this tournament – this your human pillow or somethin'?"

"I can only assume you haven't met my good plaything Ash." Somewhat outside of Shermie's knowledge, Ash definitely knew a bit of what Angel was capable of, if her controversial battle with Yuri said anything...

Shermie then mentioned, "I'd opt to call him a 'guinea pig' to my needs, but he doesn't quite like that." All of a sudden, the weird mummification fetish that came out of nowhere no longer seemed 'out of nowhere'.

Angel raised an eyebrow. "Care to _explique_ yourself, _chico peca?_ "

"Never really grew to being called a 'guinea pig'. _Pas ma tasse de thé_ – not then, not now." had a little bit of a rough time shrugging through the sheets wrapped and tightened around his body. That was as far as his complaints went.

Shermie noted, "And yet you can deal with 'plaything'? I'm charmed..."

"You've been toying with me so much these past couple days – why the hell would I be able to deny it?"

"Hmhmhmhm... come here, babe..."

Shermie leaned herself in for one of a plentiful amount of make-out moments, helping to loosen the wrappings upon Ash's body – he broke through further from the playful binds on his own accord just to wrap his arms around her body.

Naturally, with what was going on right in front of her (so close she'd be able to cop a feel of something), Angel didn't want to feel left out, and brought her hands over Ash's shoulders. "Damn, do I even need to be here anymore? Seems like you got your hands full – and I guess that works for _both_ of ya..."

"You wanna give a try?" suggested Shermie. "I'm _very_ open to the idea..."

Ash's blush was of a joyful intrigue more than anything else. "Shermie, please; I already feel like the luckiest person here..."

Shermie giggled, straddling her lover's hips as the sheets laid between them. "By the feeling of things, I feel you still have plenty to give..." She could definitely feel something trying to break through the cloth, prodding with throbbing intent against the hotspot that lied beneath her skirt.

"There's so much that I want..." was attempting, in slight motions, to thrust up against his beloved. He was ever so deeper into that sexual corruption Shermie had over him, more than ever before. "...Whether it's you or this other deadly babe, I wanna have all my body can handle..."

You couldn't wipe that smile off his face even if you kicked all of his teeth out – by the point of where he was now after what he was given between Shermie's constant teasing and gifts such as Luong's welcoming asshole, he was powering solely on his cock at this point.

Shermie felt the grip Ash had on her wide hips, and the pinching handle of her skirt's openings, and took it with amusement. "Talk about 'waxing lyrical'... Angel, is it? – what do you say?"

On the other end, Angel was really getting an image of horniness out of the snobby Frenchie. "This guy seems desperate."

"Obviously – I've been sitting on his face since that match with the witch and the humongous cleavage. Betting he wants to burst _real_ bad now..."

Ash gripped tighter in response to the little gyrations Shermie gave over him. " _Oh baiser oui, bébé..._ "

Shermie's curvy, willing body oozed with an extremely warm feeling where her arousal approached his level – just seeing the guy squirm with that lustful eagerness brought heat to her body, and she needed to latch onto something quick.

So she grabbed Angel again by the collar of the jacket and pulled her even closer – Angel was briefly dragged over Ash's body and into Shermie's arms, lips to lips as she felt the French babe's tongue perform a dance of lust in the intertwining skin. Their bodies stumbled down onto the bed, damn near about to roll over on each other

Unable to resist though able to watch with sensual optimism, though Ash was no longer in that beautiful sandwich of sexiness, it wasn't without upsides – as soon as he felt Angel's thong-bearing ass briefly grind past his face, he gasped, and as those two big-breasted beauties welcomed one another with kisses and gropes, he couldn't resist keeping a hold of his most important tool, beneath the sheets _and_ his pants.

He deduced with his own thoughts what Shermie was trying to lay before him. His penis stayed firmly within his flame-weathered hand beneath the layers as he kept position behind Angel. "If you want me to go through _her_ to get to you – I might as well just step right ahead..."

However, as soon as he tried to reach around the NESTS biker... "Ack~!"

Angel had her hand against his neck, pulling mostly by the collar. No sneak-fucking around her, it seemed. "Just so you know, I'm the one who usually makes the move," she asserted. "Only reason I let your babe take control is cause she's the hotter ticket here. Hotter than you, definitely."

"I'm not hot by _traditional_ means," he quipped back. All this earned him was a rough shove that nearly toppled him onto his face on the floor.

"Might wanna calm down there, Angel," Shermie insisted as she nipped at the scummy beauty's neck. "He's more than just a odd face..."

"I dunno, I just don't really trust what he's got," Angel commented. "If this is mostly between us, what's he gonna do, just jerk off?"

"He's been spending some time to recharge after his last little trial – a little weak at the knees still, I'd imagine, but maybe he's ready to tackle _my_ body?"

Angel shrugged. "I'm not saying you'd be bush-league compared to me, but..."

"I'll say who's bush-league when I finally get myself into that..." Clutching the edge of the bed, Ash managed to pick himself up off the floor. "Into either of you ladies, _both_ if I'm allowed to. Never one to let anything stop me from getting what I want."

Cue a morbid question out of Angel. "Even the possibility of a crushed pelvis? Cause if I know your bae's legs from that Luong fight, just like I know my own whole damn body, I'd say good luck either way."

Ash chuckled. "It'd be worth it."

Angel scoffed in return. "Would it really?"

"We'll know when we get there – well... _if_ we get there..." After a long time spent sharing leg-room with Angel, Shermie eventually separated away with an elegant spin around before getting off the bed. "By the way – there something I wanted to mention to you, ..." She didn't hesitate to wrap herself around her green-pyro crush, resisting the urge to shove her tongue against his again.

In return, Ash's black nails found themselves mostly hidden under the waistband of Shermie's skirt as he too found a good spot to hold. " _Je suis tout ouïe, magnifique._ "

"Word around the mansion is that Yuri and Mai had a bit of a nice time after the first round... had some time to unwind... and what started as a massage almost turned into something even more, I heard."

"So what's your plan? You wanna try to get them involved, bring _all_ of their urges out for display?"

"Ehhh, not quite – I know a thing or two about how they work as fighters, I imagine their minds elsewhere are just as strong."

"Plus," noted Angel from the side, "I'd rather this be between the three of us – you want this to be a threesome or a bloodbath?"

Ash was very casual to the idea. "I'll take the gamble of 'fight' or 'fuck' if I have to, and try not to cause a fire while I'm at it."

From there, Shermie brought Ash's attention back to her with a simple groom of his hair. "Ash, please – let's focus on us, and not on them. What I'm saying is, if you happen to find your way into their room... maybe there'll be time to replicate the magic they nearly sparked, and make it our own."

"Simple fetch quest, that all there is?" Not that he was complaining, but with all he was teased on, he imagined much more from the quality babe he was aligned with. "I can handle that, but it'd better be worth it."

"I imagine you'd know the reward when you think about it." Shermie's hips settled alongside the hands of her lover with a slow but tempting motion grinding against the other – all the while, her lips preyed on Ash's and gave way to the amorous kisses... "You'd do it for this ass, right?" Smooching and slurping spread out what she said, as she was only able to multitask with so much... "Imagine getting it glistening under your hands... nice and wet for your every desire..."

"Alright, alright~" Ash found himself having to break away for a moment to speak ( _and to breathe_ ); even with the hotness being hand-served to him, though, there's plenty he was able to handle before it all got the best of him. "Any more convincing and I'll have busted in my pants." A bit of a bend of the knee, and he brought his stride out of the room.

With that settled, Shermie returned to Angel's side, immediately groping and handling the white-haired sex-pest with a bunch of hand-work in return.

"Now... _hipotéticamente,_ " Angel started to speak up in the midst of slurpy lip collusion, "let's say something happens with that —"

"I trust him to get the job done," Shermie assured, the imagination of what's to come feeling real colorful in her head. "Have you seen what I've been doing with him today? If I want to be honest, he's almost exclusively working with his penis at this point. All that's standing between us getting down now is some wet delight..."

…

Speaking of a 'wet delight'...

* * *

 **Coping Mechanism #2:** _Old fashioned liquid courage._

In the time they spent again in the bar room, King and Mai had their fun with the drinks, and coping with knowing they both didn't have anymore left to compete for, for the week. Given the latter's expression, you could recognize she felt there was something missing in this little party.

King could tell – she read her friend's expression upon the gander of the empty shot glasses, like a book of well-kept emotion. "Really feels like a nest too empty, doesn't it?"

The light upcurve on Mai's lips didn't quite match what was going on in her head. "...A little. Really would've wanted to still come with. She could use a drink."

"Yeah, I bet that kinda depends on what they have back at the infirmary," King considered with a shrug. Water or booze didn't matter as a choice since she was one of the bunch who gave care to Yuri's safety. "Besides, she's not quite '100%' right now – let alone in a mental state of things..."

"I'm not the pinnacle of health or anything right now myself," compared Mai, "but here I am." The Leona Blade she took in her efforts in defeat spoke plenty, as did King's near-broken knee and various other little injuries in the previous night. "If I were you, I would've let her come anyway; maybe we could've exposed her to something new..."

"But since _I'm_ me, and you know how I feel sometimes with the legality of that stuff..."

"Well, we _are_ in France..."

"And I'd still feel weird."

"Pretty sure she'd meet the drinking over where the Illusion is too..."

"Don't rub it in; hell of a lot better just to steer her right." King already was iffy with Yuri's alleged 'experimentation' with the brownies and cookies she partook in ( _being often justified as improving her health_ ) – her getting drunk would just be double-trouble, and she couldn't imagine throwing her ass in even more places, especially after today's events...

"Besides, it'd be stacking crap on top of crap if she lost her way."

"You really sound like you had some things to think about, in all this time..."

"Oh, I've got a _lot_ left to think about..." King lifted her glass back up to her mouth and let all that remained of the drink smoothly slide down her tongue... she almost wanted to just grab the bottle of origin and gulp it down straight from the source.

She set it down and gulped silently...

"Mai... be real with me... is our generation fucked?"

"... _Our_ generation?"

"Y'know – _comment on dit_ – the first of us ladies to jump into the KoF ring? I feel like things were great for us until ladies like Lien stepped in and _fucked_ the status quo, started making their strength out of artificial bullshit and gadgetry, and making pure martial arts look bush-league. For the most part."

Though it didn't instantly spark, Mai soon started to nod with a gaze down at the table, once it soaked in. "Yeah, okay... I'm starting to catch your drift..." She didn't want to say it out loud, but she was considering the possibility it was some sort of 'first-rounder-itis' that was clouding her on-off partner's mind. "...I want to say me and Yuri have been getting off fine, but you know how we ended up."

"You got exploded and Yuri got literally fucked, is how you ended up," retorted King, quite bluntly, a second before tipping the drink back again – and then the second after _that_ , her hands met her hair next. " _Merde_ , my head feels like it's on fire."

"Then you might want to save some of that for me." Mai retorted, as she beckoned for the booze with a simple hand gesture, and it was accepted by the bartending fighter, who slid the bottle over.

However, Mai wasn't the one to get to the fine bottle first – much to her confusion. She saw it plucked up and out from behind her, and swiftly turned with an irritated expression...

...staring down towards the unfazed and unwelcomed Lien, who simply rejected the eye contact and walked past King for room on the bar table to pour herself a glass.

"Fuck off..." King grumbled, not even respecting the intruding assassin with a single glance.

"You gotta be kidding..." Mai was just as annoyed by this point, with the umpteenth time she crossed paths with the Brit. "I bet fucking with Yuri wasn't enough, now you gotta bounce back to us?"

Lien scoffed, growing to give even less of a fuck. "Can't a woman just fetch a drink in peace nowadays? This hate magnet on me is becoming _so_ contrived now..." She took a brief drink... "Besides, I'm done having my fun with any of you ladies, Yuri included. The facts that remain are that you all have lost your chance now, and I'm still moving up." Without any more time spent, she began to make her way out of the room...

...But then she stopped at the doorway, not needing to look back as she spoke one last time. "Though... a word of advice? I wouldn't recommend heading back to her for a little while..." Then she left the scene for real, and the air cleared to make way for confusion and worry above the cryptics.

Though that was probably mostly on Mai's part, given her thoughts afterwards. "That's not a good sign, is it? King, vouch for me – _please_ tell me she's just spreading bullshit now..."

When she turned her head to the blonde she actually liked, she came to notice at first the glass that started to shake in King's hand.

Then came a look at the expression of abject adult fear that entered King's face and just couldn't get away.

The glass eventually fell out of her hand and dropped to the floor in a shatter.

"We gotta get to Yuri. _Now._ "

* * *

 **Coping Mechanism #3:** _Unleash your urges._

"Sometimes I can't seem to read you girls..."

Vanessa had expected something out of this invitation into the bathroom, but there always had to be a roadblock of sorts – that being Iroha, and the things she didn't know.

"You're telling me, that someone like you, who's hauling two basketballs for a butt and a thong almost small enough to floss your teeth with, hasn't ever sat on someone's face?"

"I... never had the chance to consider it." Iroha's palms and knees rested against each other in her delicate seating position. "And please, I'd spare your... descriptions of me. This is all going a bit too fast for my liking."

"Trust me – you'll get used to the pace in a second. Then you'll come to figure out that face-sitting is THE SHIT. Take it from me; tried it with my husband once and I think he nearly passed out. People are _still_ making up rumors like I widowed myself doing that... hell, with yours, I'm pretty sure that's no longer impossible now."

"Are you implying you want me to suffocate you with my butt?!"

"Not unless I get too lost in it. If I can't control myself with your goods, I'd be good with dying happy." As she afterwards bit down onto the leather of her gloves, Vanessa peeled them off without a second missed to circumstance. "Now... the newest question here is, who's gonna work harder for this?" She leaned in deep on the maid, her now-bare hands meeting Iroha's meaty thighs – surprising resistance not to go for two handfuls of cheeks on first contact...

Regardless of hand position, Iroha still shriveled within herself, blushing until her face was as red as a ketchup bottle. "Uuuuhh~"

"You not liking this?" Maybe too close too fast, Vanessa thought, but hopefully things settled well.

Iroha responded, "Uhh... I kinda do... but I don't know how my master's going to feel about this..."

"You're getting fondled by a married woman right now – trust me, we're both crossing borders on this. Whatever happens, stays here. Now, let's get you _more_ comfortable..."

Vanessa took her time to grab Iroha by the thighs and lift her off the toilet, in a carry-around with the maid's legs and arms hooked respectively around the waist and neck of the redhead. When the movement was settled out, Vanessa was now the one sitting on the toilet with Iroha seated upon her lap, and even more of a handful of dem thighs.

Iroha was puzzled and yet also fascinated. "Is this a method to get _into_ the facesitting, or...?"

"Feeling-out process; show you the ropes, in a way," Vanessa detailed, shifting slightly upon the closed seat of the toilet. "I imagine you're still pretty novice at this type of stuff – I'll tell ya, I'm surprised, but I won't let that hold me back from getting shit done."

Regarding the scenery, Iroha was a little worried to ask, "...Does it involve—?"

"The toilet? Oh, fuck no, I just needed somewhere to sit for this – I'm not that dirty... though I mean, you _are_ a maid..."

"Please don't make a mess of things – I'm nervous enough..." _Smack!_ "Aah~!" The clap of Vanessa's hands smacking up higher on Iroha's amusingly-wide hips left the maid yelping like a startled puppy.

On top of that, Vanessa gave an unsubtle wink to her peer afterwards. "No promises..."

In retrospect, that bet was probably the best thing that could be done for Vanessa's growing sex drive...

* * *

 **Coping Mechanism #4:** _Compromising boredom without the 'life of the party' (maybe also compromising the possibility that someone ran out of ideas already on the theme of these mechanism ideas)._

With the minutes that passed, Yuri was barely closer to feeling completely fine after all that'd gone down – the whole bet she'd wound up in with Vanessa was a little bit of a morale stunt, but now that the redhead was off to try and get some ass (in somewhat of a literal sense), what was she to do, besides talk with the other ladies in the infirmary?

"Sooooo how the heck are we gonna know if she won the bet or not?" Yuri grew to ask, just to crack into the ever-awkward silence.

Mary shrugged with as much confidence as she had in her ravaged body. "Oh, there'd definitely be a sign to tell that something went down – little bit o' wiping of the mouth, some ruffled hair, messy clothes..."

"I dunno – she could easily mess with herself like that and make pretend."

"She seemed _too_ confident to make a cover-up deal like that. She'd gamble with her choices just to prove a point."

Yuri shrugged. "I dunno if I wanna dispute that; you know her better than I do."

"A _lot_ better," Mary corrected the karate girl. "It's only natural between partners – kinda like how you and your partners seem nearly inseparable."

"There's the keyword right there – _nearly._ Then you put the alcohol out, and I'm usually a no-go."

"Why so? Just cause you're still kind of a young buck?"

"Mostly a health matter. You've probably seen how people get when they spend most of their time with the booze. It'd go to their liver, or their gut."

"Or maybe thighs? Seeing how you throw yourself into danger, I imagine it'd help you. So thick you'd literally knock people out at some point..."

Yuri's optimism expectedly struggled thinking of the idea, based on past events. "At this point? I think this swallow's clipping her wing for a little while. First I nearly break my tailbone on the bunny-ear girl, and then... well, you'd know the rest. Hell, _everybody_ in this place should know by now, hosts included."

The feeling kinda spread over onto Mary, making her feel a little more, fittingly, blue for the moment. "...Yeah... right..." _How the fuck do I forget that stuff?_ she thought – you could probably thank the blood loss she suffered from the losing effort for that.

"Uhhhh..." Her mind boggled around in a tiny panic for something else to talk about. _C'mon, Mary,_ "Fuck, this just keeps getting awkward..." _If Vanessa were here, NOT trying to eat ass..._ She eventually found her finger pointing past Yuri towards someone else. "You, uh, witch girl, what do you want to talk about?"

Of course, referring to Mignon, on the bed opposite the side of the empty bed that was Mai's earlier, her body turned away from the rest of the remaining bunch.

The look in her eyes was not too different from how she looked when she dealt with the vomiting and the post-match stress; she had a definite reason to look such a way at the moment.

"Mignon wasn't seeing things, right? There was a snake woman back there..."

"Snake woman?"

"Think she's talking about the chick that Nakoruru girl found, with the snake tattoo," Mary cited, trying to lift herself up a little more. "Right in the cor... ner...?"

The bed in that far corner was empty now. "Uh..."

"We got a runaway?" asked Yuri?

"We got a runaway, I think," Mary answered. Then, for a moment, rose up from her bed with a brief pained grunt, but in the next, she didn't bother with the rest of the way up. "Yuri, you handle the walking."

"Alright..." Yuri was already halfway hopping out of her own bed – before she addressed the empty bed or the door physically, she went over to Mignon's side. "If you're not in the mood to help, that's fine, but you might wanna keep safe, alright?"

Mignon only answered with a scared whimper, and a tighter hug on the pillow beneath her.

From there, Yuri went to the door and turned the knob for a moment. Usually, with a turn and a push, it'd go open, but it wasn't to be this time around.

"Locked." She could only presume those in charge, whether Iroha or otherwise, didn't want the patients heading off on their own unless they knew about it. "Tough to say that she actually left."

"Unless she teleports," Mary suggested. "With the shit we've all seen, it's a possibility."

"But if she's still in here, we might want to flip stuff to make sure she doesn't have anywhere to hide." Yuri had a bit of a uncertain shrug over her shoulders. "Safe or sorry, take your pick."

"Hmm..." Mary turned to her left, towards the neighboring bed. "Alice."

The girl with the 'Fatal Fury' cap picked her face up from the comfort of her pillow, half-awake. " _Mmn?_ "

"We might have a crisis here, there's a 'snake woman' missing from this room. What's the first place you'd look?"

"'Snake woman' – the heck are you talking about?"

"Alice, please, vouch me something."

"I dunno..." Alice shifted around on the bed in brief thought. "...Bathroom, I'd guess?"

Mary and Yuri immediately locked eyes across the room, acutely aware of what was behind the closed bathroom door off to the side – Mary's left, Yuri's right; either direction it laid, someone _had_ to consider the decision, the consequences, and everything in between.

"Not it – _dammit!_ " Somehow, the two managed to catch perfect unison with one another – and then their attention went back to Alice – she'd be the last to say 'not it', but she shrugged futilely.

"You see this leg? I'm not going anywhere that isn't this bed."

Ultimately, it came down to the blonde detective and the brunette karate chick to collectively take part in trying to go through the situation.

 _Knock-knock..._

One could immediately hear a bit of a shuffle in Vanessa and Iroha's respective yelps. " _Fuck!_ " " _Eyaah~!_ "

Yuri immediately lit up in red, noticeably more sensitive with the sensual stuff after her 'problematic incident'. "I can't do this..."

Mary quickly reeled the karate girl back in with an arm yanking on the gi belt. "Nah, girl, we jinxed each other, we deserve to blush." Besides, she needed someone to hold on while her legs had trouble going after, y'know, nearly dying. Anyways... "Hey, Vanessa?"

" _Yeah?_ "

"There's no one in there but you and the maid chick, right?"

" _...Yeah._ "

Mary couldn't really just sit back down with that. "...You sure? You never know—"

Vanessa cut her partner loose. " _Mary, if there's a problem that you think wound up here, we'd let you know by now._ "

"...You're probably right."

" _'Probably'? Mary, are you feeling alright? Did you lose some blood in your brain, too?_ "

Yuri stepped back in. "Mary, we might wanna start checking elsewhere – if she's not in the bathroom, she's not in there."

"I just want real quick closure, honestly," Mary admitted. "I'm a detective, I'm used to getting shit solved. And if this takes a turn—"

Again, Vanessa stepped in. " _Okay, pardon my French, but seriously... what the **fuck** are you two talking about?!_"

The answer that was given wasn't either of Mary or Yuri speaking up – they didn't quite have enough time to say anything before they heard a squelching noise.

" **GYAAH!** " And then a sharp scream prompted them to swiftly twist back around.

The scream even caught the other end of the bathroom door, with Iroha speaking up first. " _W-what was that?!_ "

Then Vanessa came next. " _Guys, what the fu—!? Mary, what's going on out there?!_ "

She couldn't answer. If she could, it probably would've meant trouble for her next, with what she and Yuri saw...

The sight first dropped on Mignon's expression, one of just grave fear – then curved up towards the sword embedded through her right shoulder, piercing into the bed with blood slowly spreading...

...and lastly fell upon the naked, tattooed black-haired wielder.

Alice was barely able to pick her body up more towards the sudden sight. "Who the _fuck~?_ "

Meanwhile, Mary and Yuri stood in a period of silence, unable to even pick up a syllable's worth of reaction as they watched on at the sword retracting from the pink-haired witch, not quite prepared.

With her blades tensed in her clutches, the influenced, remorseless Shiki found her sight, making its way towards the noticeably intimidated ladies across the room. It wasn't just the red left eye that glowed with a fearless, sinister synergy, or the fact that she was prepared to slice – it was all a part of a whole package that warranted a red flag worth fighting out against.

And there was the words Shiki reflected on as she took a stance against the rest...

"Not a soul."

* * *

 **Translation Time!**

 *** _'Cariño'_ = 'Sweetie'  
** *** _'Explique'_ = 'Explain'  
** *** _'Chico peca'_ = 'Freckle boy'  
** ***** _**'Hipotéticamente'**_ **= 'Hypothetically'**

 ** _*_ _'Pour être honnête...'_ = 'To be honest...'  
** *** _'Pas ma tasse de thé'_ = 'Not my cup of tea'  
** *** _'Oh baiser oui, bébé'_ = 'Oh fuck yes, baby'  
** *** _'Je suis tout ouïe, magnifique'_ = 'I'm all ears, magnificent'  
** ** _*_ _'Comment on dit…'_ = 'How do you say...'**

 **If it wasn't obvious in a couple of previous Women Fighters/Queens Team interactions in this story, I fully support some headcanon details my fellow KoF fandom writers like to mingle about with their own works.**

 **Next Chapter:** **Before the night truly ends, more blood may fall... as could many other fluids, but mostly blood. Basically, even with the round over, get ready for some action to ensue!**


	42. POST-ROUND: Slithering Wrath

Shiki's handling of her swords was shaky, and her stance a little unnerving with the way she slumped her body around like a zombie without a sense of balance – but in the world she knew, she was an experienced killer. She could potentially trigger a grander spree in this world where weaponry combat isn't what it used to be...

All that was to be relied on in the defense against this snake-tattooed menace, with others within the room being busy or injured, were Blue Mary and Yuri, who were hesitant in their fighting posture.

Yuri's eyes darted straight towards her impromptu partner. "Mary. Game plan. Quick."

"First idea is try not to get sliced up. Or distracted. Try not to look too deep, basically."

"I can't exactly fight with my eyes closed..."

"You gotta try _something_ , 'Karate Kid'; what we do now, with a single fuck-up, it could be the last thing we _ever_ do." Mary's shoulders rolled backwards as she prepared her war-torn body for a new, intense scenario to deal with. "Follow my lead..." Her risk was her problem, and she chose to charge head-on towards the sword-bearing creep.

The limb she'd have to go after first, decided the fate of the fight from the get-go – work the arms, potentially disarm and take away what Shiki worked best with; work the body, and pray the 'snake woman' didn't know how to deal with the takedown; work the legs, and balance would be but a word.

However, Mary would come to realize she didn't quite have that choice once she saw Shiki fly out of her sights...

...across the air...

...and right down onto a barely-prepared Yuri, pinning her straight down by her neck as the swords came dangerously close.

"Yuri!" Mary turned tail back around towards where the katana-wielding intrusion now sat, ripe and ready to snatch her up.

She was _immediately_ denied when she felt her nose nearly get smashed inside out by the back of Shiki's head reeling backwards with brutal force – Mary went stumbling back the other way as it went back down to the struggle between Yuri and Shiki.

Yuri had her legs hooked around the waist of Shiki, trying not to let her arms get too close to the swords for risk of limb, as she tried to sway around in a reach for the upper hand. She was lucky that was one to savor her attempts, otherwise there wouldn't even be a struggle, or even a fight at all.

However, this was still a two-on-one dynamic, as Mary found her way back around to the action, catching Shiki just as she felt the squeeze of Yuri's scrawny but durable legs actually start to become uncomfortable – and the katana-wielder found herself caught into a rear-naked choke for a moment before quickly shaking it off, pushing Mary back while unintentionally bringing her back to Yuri's side as the karate fighter hopped past and made the leap back in with a fist ready to make contact.

Then suddenly, with a blink of aura, Shiki was no longer in front of Yuri, causing the fist to whiff at nothing but air – Yuri quickly turned around once she heard Mary make a pained grunt, and saw pin the blonde against the wall, one blade prodding against Mary's gut while the other blade was already reeled back for a slash.

However, for the first time since she found herself in this world, something fell out of Shiki's benefit as the grip she had on her twin swords didn't quite have enough tightness to prevent it from being snatched of her hands thanks to Yuri's quick wit – yet she realized quickly the weight that fell out of her hand, and turned around to face the karate prospect, who looked as though

For good reason, definitely – Yuri was no good with a sword, no matter whether it was stainless steel or bamboo, but she went along with an attempt anyway, with a wide swing that was far beyond telegraphed to be able to hit against someone with infinitely more experience. She was kicked in the gut and sent back, as the sword fell back into the hands of their owner – only for Shiki to be quickly swarmed by Mary with an arm-working clutch that tried to pry away the sword on her other hand. Shiki stomped down on one of Mary's feet and turned her attention back to

...and promptly getting a handprint firmly tattooed across her face from a spirit-filled slap by Yuri – Shiki was staggered! But was she going down? _Barely._ The death stare she retorted silently with said plenty...

...and so did the instant regret on Yuri's face. "...Please don't make curtains out of my guts~"

Thankfully for her, not the case – though Yuri _did_ receive a backflipping kick up her jaw to send her right over one of the beds and knock it straight over onto its side. Just happened to be Mignon's bed as well, as the witch with an actively bleeding wound in her shoulder found herself tumbling off as well, the red smearing over the mattress as it toppled over the two girls at misfortune.

Shiki's attention fell back down towards Blue Mary as she had the grappling detective clutched around her waist, trying to lift her off the ground with the weight upon her shoulders – as Mary had initially calculated, it wasn't quite an easy thing for Shiki to sort out with her weaponry alone. She managed to shove Mary off before long, and came forward with a spinning kick...

...only for it to be caught, and for her to be grabbed from behind...

...and promptly dropped nearly on the top of her head with a suplex by Mary!

Seizing opportunity, Mary went on the prowl as the opening came up, diving down on top of Shiki's body before she could manage to get up, and quickly getting herself wrapped around one of the warrior's arms in a lock with complete intention to buy time while she had a glance back at that closed bathroom door.

"Now would be nice for a little help, 'Nes!"

On the other end of the door: " _Is it_ _ **that**_ _bad?_ "

"Extremely!" Mary could already feel Shiki slipping out of her hold and prepping to stab, and there was only so long she could hold on with the conditioning she was in.

However, with the reinforcements coming out of the bathroom, the battle could be put into better hands by the looks of Vanessa's re-entry into the scene, as she carried Iroha over her shoulder, a slight of interrupted irritation giving way for just plain confusion over the naked woman that was trying to overpower her fellow agent.

Vanessa gestured out as she set the maid down. "Who's this chick!?"

And then Iroha additionally panicked, realizing the worst-case scenario. "W-what did you do!?"

"Gonna say ' _I don't fucking know_ ' to both of those questions! Just help me— _urk!_ " Mary was cut off by the sharp feeling of one of Shiki's swords poking into her body, dangerously close to somewhere vital as she found herself now being the one pinned down.

"Don't need to tell me twice!" Vanessa tightened her gloves and charged in for the save...

...and her fist came against not the face of Shiki, but one of the blades coming up from protecting said face in a brisk block – the mismatched eyes of Shiki continued to act with the nearest proximity to perfection as she turned her focus on the redhead, and swung at her with the dual katanas, without mercy.

Vanessa responded with a near-identical pace with her newfound opponent, clashing knuckle-to-blade as she put her offense and defense into a single pile of power, spoilin' for a fight – and as she held down the line, she turned aside with enough of a slight to avoid dropping complete focus on Shiki.

"Butt-maid, grab your stuff and help me out as quick as you can – I got this!"

A confused blush sparked on Iroha's face. "...'Butt-maid'?"

"Just go!"

Prompting not to think on Vanessa's nickname for her too long, Iroha nervously nodded, and sprinted past. In the midst of the battlefield, Mary dragged herself out of the way with the brand-new stab wound on her chest deep in her mind, as she let her partner take over the late-work.

In contrast to her still-relatively injured partner, Vanessa was pretty much completely healthy minus a bit of dullness from alcohol influence – and it was showing quite well in how she was keeping up against Shiki's mindless slicey-dicey misbehavior.

Whether she liked it or not, though, the fight had other plans rather quickly, and may have proved Vanessa lucky up to a point...

One bad punch whiffed widely in the exchange – and one of the swords dug itself inches deep into Vanessa's arm beneath the wrist, completely stumping her share of the fight as she quickly fell on her knees in a pained struggle. Blood oozed slowly as she hissed in a self-muted agony, clutching with the other arm...

The idea of burrowing deeper didn't hover within Shiki's mind as she often didn't prefer 'quick and painless' in the way she toyed with her victims – especially when they fought back. Her head tilted with a silent intrigue and her depressing yet terrifying stare rendered Vanessa a little more fearful.

Shiki then tilted the sword outwards so that it started slithering through more of the skin down Vanessa's forearm, potentially ripping through an artery or two as a drip of blood slowly upgraded into a puddle – it'd probably be less of a hassle to just chop the arm off at this rate, given the insane struggle Vanessa kept to avoid screaming at a glass-breaking volume.

Shiki was growing satisfied with the work she did on those she didn't trust ( _ie: more than likely everybody minus the one who influenced her_ ) and had a feeling of preparation towards completely finishing off one of these 'nuisances'...

...But then she felt something fly into the back of her neck, like an axe getting smacked blade-first into a tree, and plunge enough into her to stick into the skin as she reeled forwards, and indirectly let loose of the sword in Vanessa's arm.

Shiki was staggered long enough for a bit of capitalization with another attack, as the butterfly sword that could've damn near decapitated her was yanked back out by the gracefully-soaring Iroha, jumping over and taking up on the free attack with another slice that caught up Shiki's front with decent force to level her back, leaving her limply slumping backwards as a surface-level laceration came across the front of her naked body. More and more, the otherwise tempting body was getting messed with by the ensuing combat...

The protective instincts within Iroha seemed to peak real quick within the midst of the battle, as she quickly came to Vanessa's aid, yanking the katana out of the redhead's arm and clutching the wound to hold back the bleeding.

"Hopefully I've bought us some time keeping her back – you're going to be fine, Ms. Vanessa, just stay with me..."

"I _better_ be alright after this," Vanessa grumbled. "I'd never trust a bitch with swords like that... you, on the other hand—" She was soon shushed under one of Iroha's caring hands, being helped towards the ground.

"Breathe," the maid suggested, a thin hint of panic audible. "Try to calm yourself if you can – if you can calm your heartbeat, it may slow the bleeding..."

Vanessa was rightfully frustrated, knowing the fight is likely far from over. "Yeah, 'being calm' doesn't mean _shit_ if you're in the pain I'm in – maybe focus on the crazy chick a little more while we're at it!?" As the agent spoke, Shiki was already starting to recover, slowly bringing her body back to a proper stance as she approached with the dirtied swords.

Iroha already found her way to whatever sort of cloth she could find, making a tourniquet around Vanessa's arm to seal it off as quickly as possible, even if it meant ignoring a bit of the optimal procedure. It didn't prevent a decent amount of blood-spread around the place ( _though especially upon Vanessa's shirt and clashingly-red tie_ ), but it was working out fine for what it was.

"I'd rather you sit by, while I try to take care of her," Iroha suggested. "You'll be fine as long as you—"

"Shit, look out!" Vanessa gasped and quickly braced for impact, alerting the maid as she turned around to meet the returning danger.

Seeing the remorseless being loom back over her, Iroha reached quickly for her weapons to hopefully block...

…

Shiki raised her blades, ready to come back down for punishment...

…

And the sound of a bird's battle cry suddenly soared its way in as a blur blasted a window open inwards into the infirmary and sliced its way past Shiki's body – she was quickly staggered again, unable to bring her arms down the way she tried to as she found another wound forming over her chest, and for once, there was a facial expression upon her face, one of significant pain.

Even further came down upon Shiki as a cloth whipped its way around one of her arms and something else broke past the open window to strike her in the jaw, sending her straight into a hard wall and truly knocking her out of her sinister sense of zen.

It didn't take long for Iroha to recognize the bird and maiden who had returned to the infirmary at a time when it was most needed. "Nakoruru!"

And coming along with Nakoruru's arrival, was her long-crawling lament. "I knew there was a risk, leaving Shiki alone like this... Are you safe, Iroha?"

"I might've been lucky against her, to be honest," Iroha admitted. "I can't say that for anyone else in this room..."

"As long as you're all safe..." Nakoruru found her focus lying almost completely upon Shiki as she saw the tattooed menace already start to come back to her senses. "No one's dying as long as Kamui is my guide..."

Shiki stumbled for a moment as she tried to retread her footing and keep consistently on her weapon-gripping hands. For the first time in a little while, her lips rediscovered words...

"You... you did this to me..."

"It was all spurred on me at a moment I really didn't need it," Nakoruru explained. "I'm trying to help you."

"I don't need help... The dark has me now, and the only way out is death."

"...I don't want to kill you... but I _do_ need to stop you, one way or another." Nakoruru had no choice but to keep up the fight, although Mamahaha seemed a little more opportunistic as it squawked with rage and spiraled out for an attack out of pure instinct.

Shiki deflected the incoming hawk, flying into close quarters with a slashing spiral that found the end of its trajectory – _**CLANG!**_ – with a clash with Nakoruru's own sword, getting caught into a deadlock that evened out quickly between the grinding slivers of metal.

Handling as much as she could, Nakoruru gave quick orders towards the fellow timeline-castaway. "Iroha, don't worry about me; help the others, and try to get them out of harm's way!"

Iroha had a expression of hesitant worry towards the nature-fighter – but she quietly understood the terms of the situation, and then scampered quickly past the sword-fight, towards the toppled bed.

"Are you either of you okay over here? Shiki didn't mess with you too bad, did she?!"

"Well..." Yuri rose up first, feeling on her jaw and the little bit of blood peering from her bottom lip. "I think I got off easy. Easier than _her_ , at least." She helped up Mignon along the way, revealing the messy result of the stab wound the witch took – which was now bleeding straight down the rest of her arm, turning the limb into a red-drenched mess.

Iroha was easily repulsed by Mignon's condition. "Oh my gosh – how long has she been left like that?!"

Yuri. shrugged, unsure. "Long enough to need some help – unless you're heading back to help your friend out."

"Nakoruru says she's got this," said the maid. "I hope she's right..."

"If not, there's still some of us ready to step back in..."

"No, Yuri! I've already seen the mark Shiki's left on others – I'd rather not have any more blood before me..."

"No matter who's fighting back, blood's probably gonna spill some more – do you see what that 'snake' chick's capable of with those swords?!" Yuri pointed towards the action going on in the center of the room, just now catching what seemed to be the sight of a sword getting sent up into the air.

The next image that fell before them was of Shiki's swords suddenly plunging beneath the shoulders of Nakoruru – the former gained her feeling of bliss over the latter's startled pain as the swords went halfway.

Iroha's eyes almost sprung beyond their lids. " _Nakoruru!_ "

"Urp—!" Nakoruru couldn't sound off to Iroha ( _or anyone else, in that matter_ ) with a word of worry herself. The direction the swords took resulted in both an entry and exit wound on the left and right sides of her chest, putting more holes into her to give way to pouring blood. Not quite a gratuitous fountain of the gross redness as much as it was a rough, undirected pour that ruined the white surface of Nakoruru's garb quickly, being even further staggered and sputtered by the forward-pushing force of Shiki's swords that forced her against the toppled bed, giving Iroha and Yuri all too close a look at the action from above.

Shiki's eventual retraction of her weapons from her opponent's body wasn't of mercy, but of a brief regrouping as she prepared for another devastating blow, the bloodied blades now crossed against Nakoruru's neck.

"Mother Nature won't save you..." Shiki said with a depraved but depressing moan.

In a way, she wasn't wrong.

Shiki's neck was suddenly yanked backwards as something zipped just above her sights – Iroha grabbed a handful of Shiki's hair and pulled her away, indirectly messing with the handling of the nude assassin's blades as she wrapped her arms around her neck and her legs around the waist.

Shiki's best instincts in countering would've probably been to teleport – but it was easier to do with focus and without anyone physically handling her. She'd rather make do with the swords, back-handling them as she let the blades sit around Iroha's back, prepared to potentially slice her open that way, if not further beyond.

She'd do it, even when Iroha insisted, "Think about what you're doing!"

But yet Shiki couldn't just do it and get it over with – not because of her emotions, what little she had of them... but because of something else penetrating her thoughts.

Shiki's eyes met the sky – or at least the ceiling shielding her from seeing it – and she slowly slackened her stance.

In turn, Iroha's clutches seemed to loosen on their own as she felt the blades retreat from around her back. "Hmm? Sh-Shiki...?" Then she felt the grasp just completely disappear from around her, bringing her to a stumble and near-fall as Shiki forced herself free, stumbling forwards onto her knees.

Shiki continued to keep her eyes up at the lights as she crawled forward, taken by another thought that wasn't simply. 'cold-blooded murder'.

"I feel it. It's so... _strong..._ " She was doing as much as she could to basically hug herself, feeling a sudden warmth. "I know what I must do..."

Barely a moment went by before Shiki suddenly vanished in a blink of blue – and Iroha didn't even get a chance to cling back onto her to prevent it, nearly face-planting.

Thankfully, the maid was able to pick herself back up quickly, throwing herself onto Nakoruru as the blood ran down into puddles on the floor.

"Iroha..." Nakoruru returned the embrace as much as she could while her body screamed silently through the pain driven through her wounds.

Meanwhile, Iroha was unable to do away with the fear remaining in her eyes and the tears struggling through. "You're going to be okay... you're going to be okay... _please be okay~_ "

"With nature by my side, I'd certainly... hope..." Nako couldn't quite finish before her legs became too weak to handling standing anymore.

Iroha only clung on tighter, trying her best to keep the blood from flowing as much as it did out the entry / exit wounds of the nature fighter. The helpful, quite medical part of her started to kick in before long... " _Bandages_... I need bandages! Anything to help her!" In sort of a crazed way, at least – and she was already halfway across the room within a second of sprinting off from the panic.

Yuri eventually found her way out from behind the bed, having to pick up from where the maid left off. "Wait – the hell does that leave us!?"

"Look, we're _all_ doing our best at this point..." From just next to the door, Mary was clinging onto Vanessa and being held close in return, trying to relax amongst one another. "Just be glad we all survived."

It probably was a good idea to feel grateful by this point once the gruesomeness of the one-on-many battle had gotten away. Now that everything had calmed—

 _ **BOOM!**_ The door suddenly blew open in an explosion of flame, startling pretty much everyone who wasn't bleeding ( _read: everyone but Nakoruru_ ) as it went slamming against the wall opposite of the doorway.

Entering quite gracefully through the resulting smoke, into the severe aftermath of what happened, Mai made a dismount into the center of the room – her focused, serious expression found itself dropping slowly once she surveyed the scenery.

"Holy crap." It took her a moment to realize just how fucked the infirmary looked, between the knocked over furniture and the blood puddling in places. "Were we too late?"

"God, I hope fucking not... _Yuri!_ " King beelined towards where Yuri sat and immediately hugged her. "Is everyone alright?"

Yuri answered, "Some, yes – others..." Considering she was besides a really fucked up Nakoruru, and Mignon having come close to fainting despite a comparatively better condition of only one notable stab wound on the other side of her... "Crap, that's real debatable by now."

King sighed. "Thank god..." She then turned her head towards one of the untoppled beds. "Alice – you okay, too?"

The Fatal Fury fangirl was busy burying her face into her pillow, having taking that position and thankfully been unscathed in the chaos. " _Is it over?_ " she muffled, barely peeking her eyes up.

"Yeah... Yeah, I think so." Now basically hyperventilating from the whole path from bar to infirmary, was clinging all too close onto Yuri, who didn't need much time to take notice to the sort of panic in her friend's eyes and breath.

"You seem like you were _really_ worried about me..."

King answered, "You can blame fuckin' Lien, for that – that's for sure."

"Speaking of," Mai joined into the huddle of girls. "Where is she? Damn near ready to make her wish she didn't come and mess with us..."

"She bailed a while back," Yuri mentioned, almost having a thought of wanting in on that potential beatdown crawling into the center of her mind. "Hard to say what she'd have to do with what happened in here.

"Uh, girls?" Focus returned to Mary, who had dragged herself over the door and had some time to look at it. "I think I might have a few ideas..."

The quick detective work was with plenty of merit already. One would need to take one great look at the door – and the burnt, melted corner that looked to have been melded into the chunk of doorway that came off with it.

There was barely a mystery left in the cause of what locked them in and left them for dead...

* * *

As established not so long before, the often vexing 'Sneering Blaze' was out to please his better babe with a bit of a 'fetch quest' – so it was without wonder just what he was doing.

The only problem here – and it was a bit of a major problem that it grew to become – was that, with having to specifically find Mai's room, he wasn't quite that knowledgeable in that department, being mostly familiar with Shermie's as well as Mature and Vice's ( _remembering with his mind AND member_ ) while the others were basically jumbled into one blurred corner in his mind.

It was only set to go further downhill from there – he was very far off from anywhere he'd know how to get around; years of hanging around Betty in this residence didn't prepare him for having to separate one competitor's room to another.

All he knew was that there was at least one door that was just a slight bit open, and his first thought was that it was simply unoccupied, because unless they didn't give a damn about complete privacy in this place, it'd be fully shut. His second thought came when he was right next to the door and started hearing some voices on the other side, thus completely defusing that initial thought.

Then there was the third thought, and the one that lit up the most devious side of him – it wasn't like it was just one or two ladies in there... if it was any earlier day, he wouldn't be as attentive to the idea, but ever since Shermie got a hold of him, he found himself thinking with other things other than his mind. In short, what Ash was thinking now was...

...what were the chances he'd be able to have every woman in there glomping for his dick? How quickly could he get it to happen? Would they all be good in the sack? And how amazed would Shermie be to see him come such a way after she loosened him to such ideas?

So many questions, and the answers could just be beyond the door – which opened quite suddenly just as he leaned on it, meaning an awkward plummet straight onto the floor of the room on his elbow and side of his face.

" _Merde~..._ " Once he got his sight back out of the blur, realized four pairs of eyes gazing down on him.

Athena, her former second-round opponent Moe ( _looking a bit better coming off her defeat_ ), and two fellow victors of the day in the form of Aoi and Leona – and all of them stood over him with a mix-and-matched feeling between confusion and anger. Some were all too familiar with the guy by this point, while others were noticeably out of the loop.

Of the four to respond, Aoi was the first, sighing exasperatedly and then cracking her knuckles. "Alright – which one of us is gonna stomp his face first?"

"I'd rather no one – at least, not yet," objected Athena, who was willing to offer Ash a bit of help getting up. "Let's hear him out first."

Ash responded almost immediately with, "I'm gonna be honest, ladies – there's not much from me to hear out."

Athena crossed her arms. "Hmm. I figured as much..."

"Why so? Because you know me well enough?"

"Because I could sense the hormones from here."

Ash's smile attempted to hide the blush. "Right..." Somehow, despite past encounters, he still had a tendency to forget he couldn't quite hide himself from the Psycho Soldier on sight alone.

Peeking over from Athena's shoulder, Moe managed a few words into the conversation. "I'm getting a 'creep' vibe from this guy – is that what you're getting at, Athena?"

"He's just young and shameless," Athena answered. "He used to be a lot worse."

"Can't imagine he'd be worse than he's already been," Aoi commented from behind Athena's other shoulder. "I wound up getting to know him in the worst of places."

"So I've heard," Ash said, a hand thoughtfully brushing upon his face, and an elbow against the doorway. "Shermie's told me a couple things about _you_ specifcally, Aoi."

Athena instantly felt a nerve spring awkwardly in her head, as though a red flag unfurled in her soul. "Shermie?"

"Plenty has happened since you and I last bumped into each other, Asamiya. It's been an... interesting couple of days between she and I, and as soon as I get back to her, it'll be even better." Ash sealed the sensual undertone with a cocky wink at the end. "I don't know about you, but that doesn't sound like a thing to worry about."

Before Athena could open her mouth again, it was covered and she was moved aside to make way for Leona, who was getting her input into the discussion through her own terms as she stepped past the rest and stood at about a nose's length away from Ash's face with that same barely-emotive sternness she usually had.

"If you value her life, you should distance yourself from her as much as possible."

Ash sneered in response, taking zero seriousness from the Ikari Warrior. "You sound like you know more about her than I do."

"Much more. More than I would want to."

"That's your problem. Not mine. Not like I care about _you._ Hell, I barely know much of you..."

"I'd much rather you not know me at all." Before even the slightest of alerts, the intimidatingly stoic face of Leona was the last Ash saw before the door swung shut with a rude thud right in his face.

The end result, of all of that, was that Ash was just a slight bit more knowledgeable of the surroundings he relied on at the moment to get around and finish up the petty task he was enlisted on. Truly became a struggle, this did, given that was probably the only door that wasn't closed and/or locked.

Maybe could've knocked.

Eh, he didn't care nearly enough to linger on that, as he simply shrugged it off and started to make his way further down...

...but he again stopped merely seconds later as something else perked his ears, and this time, it perked something else as well.

Moans. _Enticed_ moans. One lady this time, possibly the less exciting option compared to the thoughts he had about the ladies hanging out in the other room.

Still at the least something to be intrigued by – as far as his body considered, based on his almost autopilot approach towards a corner of the hall.

Again, as he got closer, he could listen in on just a bit more beyond the surface – and he could really tell now from the juicy squelching that there was a lot of self-exploration being made that he just couldn't see.

His loins spoke the most out of everything – he had so much 'frustration' to let go of... what was he to lose?

…

Every time Shiki fingered herself to completion, she felt herself getting closer to actually feeling something deep inside. For every little session she took upon herself, once she felt that warm strength, there was no backing away from it – only towards it.

And lo and behold, she finally came to realize just _what_ that strength was originating from this time, as soon as she saw something peek around the corner.

Young, freckled, intriguing in apparel yet overall looking like quite the catch.

Not to mention incredibly potent in more ways than one, from the looks of the noticeable bulge in his pants. Which he proceeded to bring out from under clothing, presenting it in all its pale and erect glory.

With a gasping expression of incomplete expulsion and a continued lingering thirstiness, Shiki beckoned for him.

* * *

A round that ended in a draw, leaving what was currently an odd number of participants that threatened to bunk up the bracket.

Several moments that could've resulted in death ( _of more than just life_ ) and had definitely resulted in the loss of innocence in some.

And now a straight-up mindless killer was wandering the halls, down to make a body count.

It was far and beyond what Elisabeth had intended out of her first running role upon a tournament. She wasn't surprised, but she was absolutely frustrated that she had all of these problems to sort out before the next morning.

Coming through the radio connected through her desk was Chizuru's voice, reassuring whenever it came around. " _Elisabeth, can you read me? I've got some updates to share if you're open to hear..._ "

"I am," Elisabeth answered plainly. "Any status on Kula and Nagase?"

" _Thankfully, both are stable, if in very rough condition. They'll pull through, though I don't know how well the infirmary has held up while I've been over here._ "

From there, Elisabeth quickly resurveyed the camera looming on that specific room. "Badly, I'm afraid..."

An exhale against inevitability was heard on Chizuru's part. " _It was only a matter of time, was it? All that tension was meant to blow up somewhere..._ "

"Unfortunately, not quite in a way we expected." As she rewound the footage and took a look at the warfare that ensued in the infirmary, Elisabeth's focus came across Shiki in all her vicious, regretless 'glory'. "One of these ladies, I don't quite find myself familiar with... and seeing what she did in there, after coming out of God knows where, I'd rather not get to know about what makes her tick for value of my sanity. I'm already going through enough as it is."

" _I had a feeling why the air felt... grim... in a way. It wasn't just the mood set from the end of this round – the aura simply felt WORSE as the day went on..._ "

"On the other hand, for you – I'd rather you stay alert around the mansion than return back here... I'd rather have this time alone, to think..."

" _...I guess I shouldn't really object, then; you have a lot on your hands._ "

"I do..."

" _I feel for you, Elisabeth. I really do..._ "

The transmission went back to silence as Elisabeth finally lifted her finger away and back with the rest of her hand palming upon her bothered face. Again and again, she found herself revisiting the bloodbath that ensued in that room, and on top of the sights she'd rather not see again such as her 'good friend' Ash's continued escapades, she had plenty of competitors, both winners and losers, to worry about.

It almost drove her towards the drinks at the bar. Almost. She was, at the least, trying her hardest to resist that idea, coping with the mug of tea by her side as she handled it for a notable sip before setting it back down. Something about even that started to unnerve her, though. Felt as though there was something lurking in the reflection...

Then her heart stopped for a second, her eyes looking up and nearly bugging out in surprise, seeing the dark-clad being sitting upon the corner of her desk.

That wasn't a just mysterious reflection – it was merely the eerie ( _though thankfully less destructive_ ) presence of one Ninon Beart. "Lovely to finally meet you, Miss Blanctorche."

Even for someone who could be awake for days on end, Elisabeth started to feel a detriment to it as she thought she was seeing things for a second. "Who... who the hell—?"

"A moment to breathe, maybe? In case you're wondering, no, I'm not here to hurt you." With the record starting to straighten with her reasons, the pale witch's presence was sparking more questions than danger.

"That's the least of my worries – who... _what_ even are you?"

Ninon scoffed. "Does it matter? No one cares for my name except my sister – I'm sure you've met Mignon by now."

That raised even more questions to Elisabeth. "...Sister?... How—"

Ninon was already feeling that ulcer of anger building in the noblewoman. "Don't think on it. It'd just make you head explode."

At this point, Elisabeth was damn near ready to smash something if she didn't get anything cleared up. "...My head _is_ about to explode, but not in the way you'd like. I just—I just need an explanation for _you;_ just what do you want? That's the question I need answered – _no bullshit needed._ "

"Have I pinched a nerve? Good – then maybe you're liable to listen to an idea or two I'd like to share, in regards to how this whole tournament's been falling apart in your arms."

Elisabeth begrudgingly responded. "The floor is with you, whether I like it or not."

So from there, Ninon's pitch began, as stoically elegant as she usually set herself. "Firstly – the body count has clearly grown a little bit since it's started; in came some extra hopefuls to cheer on some, to jeer at others, and in one case that's been felt through this whole mansion by now, to act out in a state of paranoia. Where do they lie in the pecking order? Do they just sit and watch – or will they get an opportunity of their own now that we're one feather shy in the brackets?"

"An opportunity – so you'd rather throw a spectator into the mix?"

"It's not like they're skilled simply at watching the action – there's fighters in here that you don't even realize are among you, this including myself. I'd show you just what I have... but I feel if you look into Mignon's last fight, you'd get a glimpse."

Yet another phrase that left nothing but cryptic mentions against Elisabeth's ears. "What do you mean by th—"

"No," Ninon interrupted, "I'd rather you figure _that_ out for yourself. Besides, I can't stick around for long – I have more of a mind to let awareness spread if someone were to barge in here..." With a twirl-about, she brought herself off of Elisabeth's desk and prepared to disappear from her sight. "Oh... and by the way, I'd check up on Ash if I were you."

"So you know him?"

"Only because _you_ do. I have my methods of getting this info..."

Before any more questions had the chance of being answered by her, Ninon quickly faded out of sight in a dark-pink glaze, leaving Elisabeth to think on things in a relative silence.

Of course, the first thing on the noblewoman's mind was 'What kind of trouble could he be getting into _now?_ ' She took into consideration the cameras – and then she remembered the travel that blood-lusting Shiki set upon after she left the infirmary.

Then she remembered wandering about elsewhere in the building; the possibilities seemed slim, but yet also shockingly likely – ultimately, Elisabeth had to take action to circumvent even the slightest scenarios...

...and her fingers eventually found their way back towards communication. "Chizuru?"

A few seconds before the other line picked up... " _Yes? Is there—is there anything else you need?_ "

"While you're out there... keep an eye out for Ash, for me..."

* * *

Ash absolutely understood the insane risk to such exposure, but in the matter of seeing a strange lady – let alone one who was naked and scratched up like that, yet still likely overwhelmed to all hell by her hormones, it seemed it was a damn good gamble, at the exact right time.

With that one gesture that 'mystery nudist' gave out towards him, he twinged down there with a little more gusto, and the way he approached her felt as though he was being dragged carefully by the base of his member, straight into her waiting mouth.

 _Fuck…_ in short detail – from the tongue work alone, this chick was almost up to part with Shermie... still ' _almost_ '...

He wasn't even held back on what he could do with the mouth of the strange beauty – he was already thrusting himself deeper into her mouth, face-fucking and deep-throating with the perfect sense of depraved desperation of a man who's been teased for hours on end throughout the latter part of the day.

Sure, he may have caused her to choke and cough a bit, but that was probably more to the immersion of the aggressive literal fuckery he was engaged in. His penis yearned for more to come, but he was willing to hear her out, if there was anything _she_ wanted _him_ to do.

"Now your turn..." With her legs spread, it was easy to see what she meant...

…

On the other end, Shiki hadn't felt this way in a long while – her well-conditioned pussy purred with the excitement of a woman that long withstood urges until the time was right, and her thighs crossed against each other around the neck of this young man planting his face on her, tonguing her snatch with a rookie-esque but incredibly serviceable effort.

She had a hand on the back of his pale blonde hair, guiding his way further into the voyage into her wet, tasty slit, patting down on him in the most delicate way she knew, though still with the roughness of the grasp nearly attempting to tear a few strands out of place.

Such a good 'pet'...

"Mmmnnn..." She fought through the moans, finding it tough to speak especially when she felt that tongue flick the deepest it got into her. "Yes... _you're_ the one I need..."

"One of plenty who've said that," he mentioned. "What you want, make it quick before my babe gets bored."

Shiki paid no attention to the implications that this young man was already taken with another – she went ahead and admitted without hesitation. "Make me bear your offspring..."

…

"Hmm?" Ash felt as though he had to replace his ears in case he misheard. He stopped nibbling on the black-haired oddity's sensitive parts, juices stringing off onto his face. "Come again?"

She cared enough to explain herself in extensive terms. "The perfect specimen – for the Dark Lord's resurrection. I am his surrogate, and you hold that which will succeed him."

Now was the point where Ash started to return to contact with the old saying of 'don't stick your dick in crazy' – because the chick he was starting to get into

With an awkward hiss, Ash found his interest dripping away. "Yeah... I see where you're going, but here's the thing; I'm not down for family, or just any sort of child, especially with _you._ My bloodline's been a mess even _before_ I took care of the problem." He started to retract from atop the lady...

...but Shiki had other plans, keeping her legs twined around him and bringing him ever closer, with his member finding itself starting to press unwillingly against her.

"I'm not letting go – either satisfy me or die."

"Tch~" Ash grunted with an expression of surprise yet amusement at the same time. "Okay, I'll admit, you're a devoted little bitch – not afraid to hurt a cutie. That's okay..."

His hips lowered down against Shiki, still starting to press in; it looked like penetration was actually going to happen...

"...Neither am I." …but with his _own_ terms.

"Guh—!" Shiki grunted; something sparked up as a result of Ash's cock pushing forth...

Not in her slit where she wanted it – but rather in her barely-used asshole. Being presented with a modest member like that, barely lubed as it started to open her up, was not a good feeling for her, and she retaliated as she did with eariler encounters – _violently._

She grabbed for one of her swords laying right by her side, and prepared to shove it through the back and out the front of the man intruding the wrong hole needed for her motive.

Ash evaded it somewhat by forcing to roll down the hall alongside himself, making it tough to get any sort of straight-forward stab down on him – it was lucky he noticed her assault attempt out of the corner of her eye...

As he found himself in the struggle between his bare hands and that crazy lady's blades, he started to consider that the brief bit of sodomy was more than a risky move; rather rapey in a way, a bit far for what he'd usually go for, but that was the result of thinking with a penis left begging for a finish for what felt like eons on end.

The fight that ensued further between the two was simply a grounded frenzy of rolling over one another – one trying to escape with his perfect streak of fucks intact, the other wanting to bear future darkness even if the consent was rescinded rather quickly.

Ultimately, what came down to the wire was Shiki's eventual position on top of Ash's body, looming herself over his penis and preparing for 'proper entry'.

Shiki's swords shook with an urge to eradicate. "Let us meet in the middle; I'll lay with you, and then kill you – and you'll live on in the warmth of Yuga."

Ash had those swords shielded away from his neck with a tough struggle, fueled by his burning green flames. "Ah, fuck 'Yuga', however he is – tell him you failed if you have to."

"I won't fail – whether it's with you, or someone else if I have to." Shiki twisted her swords to back-handle them, prodding against Ash's chest with their sharp points as though she'd have to execute him if there was no other way.

But then, Shiki's breathing went silent, and her eyes glazed up towards the wall ahead.

And a blast of energy suddenly erupted through her chest in a bloodless destruction that immediately rendered her unconscious – her clothes-lacking body toppled right on top of Ash, her clammy pale skin clinging onto him him.

Reacting with an awkward disgust with the sweatiness of the now-KO'd psycho babe, Ash flipped himself over on top of Shiki and left her laying down – all the while, having seen nothing out of what happened beyond the blast, he wondered just what the hell happened.

"Ash?"

The answer came clear and immediate when Ash turned his head aside to the sound of his name being called and saw the calm yet serious expression upon the face of Chizuru looking down on him.

"Lady Kagura~?" Not quite the savior he was expecting – hell, it'd been a long while since he last saw the priestess. He offered his hand to help him come back to his feet, while his other hand quickly shifting around with his pants to make sure she didn't see _too_ much of him too quickly. "Not the lady I'd love most to see, but I'll take what I can get."

After what he went through, he was more than alright just being helped back to safety. "I guess just leave the chick over there, throw her out if you need to. I'm over it already – I've got plenty to think about on what I pick and choose."

"Elisabeth's been watching you, you know," came the response of Chizuru. "She's watched _far_ too much of you."

"I imagine you'd be able to help her if that was a problem with you both; otherwise, I imagine she'd have adjusted to that kind of stuff by now."

"Just shut up for a minute, please, Ash – besides... it's better if you do, while I enjoy this..."

"Enjoy wha—"

Suddenly, all the cocky confidence that remained on Ash's face was blasted out of him before he properly processed it. It almost felt like he was shot with all the pressure that smashed down against his chest, the energy bursting from Chizuru's palm and out his back.

He immediately lost feeling all over his body, experiencing that exact pain Shiki must've felt just a moment before, just before he flopped into unconsciousness over one of Chizuru's shoulders, his body was carried off.

The priestess saw nothing wrong out of treating the young Frenchie like that. 15 years after what he did to her, he kinda deserved it.

* * *

 **I guess this is probably the most I'd have for anything celebrating Halloween – I guess if you enjoy violence on the spooky holiday, it's good for you on that matter. In that case, Happy Halloween~**

 **Next Chapter:** **Heading into another new morning of the tournament, we see plenty of questions answered such as: how will Ash be dealt with? What's the fate of the empty slot in the third round bracket? And will things get out of hand before that morning even ends? All will be solved soon...**


	43. PRE-ROUND 3: Waking Up To Something New

There was not much left to say on the night following an explosive second round and a havoc-ravaged post-round – it came and went once everything settled down.

On the next morning, a mere hour or so before things would pick back up, it was about the same. Though some were still burrowed into their slumber, others were just getting into the morning.

Outside of Love Heart ( _obviously_ ), just about everyone who wasn't in the tournament anymore, was still somewhere in the building as spectators; though plenty weren't much to talk about now that their '5 Minutes of Fame' had gone by a while back – ie: Kyoko, Arina, Tsugumi, Ai, Kisarah – and others were busy with injuries that were either freshly healing or have been spending quite some time getting over it.

While some were hanging around the infirmary even before what happened yesterday – primarily Alice, with the ankle that was barely any better by this morning – others were notably coming from the wrong end of the second round ( _Kula, Nagase, Mignon and Mary to an extent_ ), and even more were 'casualties' to Shiki's wrath ( _Nakoruru, Vanessa_ ). It was... _it was an absolute mess._

* * *

All that time Ash spent out cold meant he had plenty of time to think – he could think on what he could be able to consider as a 'total fuck-up', or more likely 'fuck-ups' in plural given how many ladies he's bumped into throughout this whole event, and the high percentage of those interactions that led to bad times for at least one person.

By this point, however, you'd know all too well he was thinking elsewhere – thinking pervertedly, as usual, thanks to the 'influence' Shermie had upon her with her body whelming his thoughts, making the fact that he never got back to her by the end of yesterday to finally get what he wanted all more rough for her.

What wasn't rough, once the numbness of his catatonic state finally settled out hours later, was what he realized half-consciously what he was laying on – softer than the carpet that crunched beneath the feet of plenty of others, which meant Chizuru didn't simply leave him on the ground where she took him down.

Good on the priestess to not utterly destroy him. At least that meant that not _everyone_ he crossed had a lasting vendetta towards him at this point...

On top of that, by the time the morning came, Ash noticed a feeling that started to graze back and forth against his forehead.

It almost felt sweaty. _Plump_ , even.

And that was when he finally woke and realized his face was nearly nose-deep into cleavage territory.

"Ohh! Mr. Crimson, you're awake~" Iroha realized the uncomfortably close view she was given and retracted, moving off to the side as she handled Ash's wrists.

Of course, this was the first time Ash had properly seen this lady, so it was a surprise in his eyes – and in lower regions – to see this insufficiently clothed Japanese maid feeling him about for a reason beyond what he knew. A sliver of himself wanted to just bring a hand lower and smooth out the near-day-long urges before he erupted too soon, but his mind was stuck on the stranger dealing with him, being just as occupied as his hands.

Speaking of – he couldn't quite figure out what the hell the maid was doing with them, as she had him postured like that. As it turned out, he was cuffed by the wrists against the bed, kept tightly in place with the chain attached over the bars in the back.

Naturally, the first thing he thought was that this was some sort of bondage kink being blessed upon him for his consistent presence around the outside of all that was going on – who else would think it besides someone like Ash, given the sort of 'dick zombie' state he'd been handled under by Shermie the past few days? Though somewhere else in his mind was kinda missing her at the moment...

"You may feel a bit uncomfortable at first, but I assure you, you'll adjust," Iroha affirmed, having turned around on him to keep an eye on whatever other tools she'll probably need. "I apologize if it'll be a problem with you."

"Suppose that makes one of us?" Ash certainly had an eyeful to gaze upon Iroha's beloved assets as he contemplated the possibilities with his cuffed-and-laid position. A tent was being pitched already, for sure. "I'd say, in a way, I might've died from what Kagura did to me, and this is probably heaven."

"Imagine if it was _that_ easy... I would never want to be you."

Ash's body stiffened in surprise once he heard the voice talking down on him, and he almost immediately started to turn his head around to the other side of the bed.

In the corner on the other side of Crimson's bed, Elisabeth was sitting _right there_ , her chair firmly pointed towards as she sat with one leg crossed atop the other.

Her posture and unmoving neutral frown elegance akin to a responsible queen at her throne, and it seemed as though she had been there for a little while, just waiting on Ash's waking moments.

"Hello, Ash."

Ash thought then and there, as his gaze fixed upon the noblewoman at his bedside, " _On second thought, disregard the Heaven part..._ " He hadn't a clue of whether he should be happy to be in the good graces of the one childhood friend he truly knew, or overwhelmingly worried for his own well-being given that over the past couple days, he'd gone behind her back ( _for the most part_ ) and gone on his own road to depravity – something that the noble purist he knew definitely wouldn't have allowed.

A third side of him was as accursed as it had usually been since he got with Shermie. He didn't exactly wish to approach that path with Betty. At least, not unless it was necessary.

Sensing the awkward silence, Elisabeth eventually found herself having to speak up again. "No need to be nervous around me." She could read the hesitation behind those lips. "I imagine it was a matter of time before we had to talk; don't _you_ think so?"

"Uhh... " Ash was still busy having a moment of vocal struggle; as he fumbled with words in his mind, he simply crossed his legs, and even with that he managed a little bit of flamboyance out of it. "Not like _this_ , at least – unless, of course, it's all a part of your intention." That attempted smile seemed _very_ forced on his part, just trying to seem a little bit confident even though it's buried underneath _so much more._

He could already see the expression on Elisabeth's face start to gear further towards exasperation – was it better just to shut up and hear her out? Probably not unless she was willing to speak next.

She started to get up from her seat, sighing. "There's a reason Chizuru had to silence you before bringing you here – and it's not to keep that ' _unshakeable charisma_ ' from seeping out too early."

"Sarcasm, Betty," Ash sighed back, realizing no choice but to roll with the punches with an under-struggled face of a disgruntled nature. "Don't try to use it against me, I've been with you enough to know you're afraid to _actually_ compliment me."

"I don't want to admit it, but I _am_ afraid," Elisabeth was now leaning slightly against the bed, and her presence brought more of a shadow over Ash. "Just not of what you'd expect."

Ash was only a slight more uncomfortable once he noticed Betty's position was leaving him looking a little more helpless than he'd want to, and he was starting to dislike the approach. "You're as brave as it goes, having to say you're afraid."

"I can tell _you've_ got something to fear, too – far more than just being separated from Shermie for too long..."

Ash had his suspicions already. "Come again?"

"Hmm. Maybe I shouldn't have spoken – but I'm not one to evade the risk of knowing. Not when I've seen too much already..."

"Tch. I bet someone tipped you off – just tell me who. If it was the kick chick or the leather-jacket babe, I'd expect as much. Hell, if _she_ knew, maybe that's why Kagura decided to strike me d—"

His mouth was pushed shut midway through a word with one poke of the riding crop that was suddenly within Elisabeth's hand the very next second – now would've been a good time for him to shut up or potentially have his jaw knocked aside.

"Cease – and look up, that way." Elisabeth directed the crop towards the top corner off to the right. "Acknowledge the camera – how it's been recording every single second of what's been going on within this very room."

"Now imagine that there was a camera like that for _every part_ of this mansion. That's what I call a secret that wishes it _was_ a secret – and Ash, what you've been doing has probably been the _worst_ kept secret within this place."

'Worst kept secret'? Ash's head was _really_ filling up with questions now. "...How much have you seen?"

"In short – too much."

"Everything, maybe?"

"Unfortunately..." Then and there, now it was Betty who was being the suspicious one; more reasonably than Ash's share, at least. "Why do you ask?"

"Uh~" Ash shriveled a little bit, wishing he could sink his head into his body like a freckled French turtle. "No reason."

"Everything has a reason."

"Are you sure?"

"You're blushing; so yes."

"Betty—"

"Either answer with something, Ash, or don't bother saying anything at all." Elisabeth was clinging onto her riding crop with even more impatience resting in her hands. "I don't want to have to do anything with you that I might regret later."

"I wouldn't say that – I feel like _everything_ involving me has been something you've regretted."

"Hmph. Much like how I regret letting you speak this much?" Elisabeth turned her head towards her left. "Iroha, if you could."

Having retreated a little into the background because of her need to care for others in the room aside from Ash, Iroha wasn't enough on the case of Ash at the moment to act immediately. "Uhhh, right away, milady."

As scampered further away towards somewhere else in the infirmary, Elisabeth returned her focus on Ash. "Know I'm trying to _help_ you – mainly because I'm sick of having to chase you down whenever you're like this."

"Betty, you may bind me, but you won't silence me."

"It's not like you're going to be able to do it yourself – no matter how hard your flames burn, you're not going to get out of those cuffs; of course, unless you're willing to risk burning your hands off; neither of us wants that, and I'm sure you _especially_ wouldn't want it, with how you've been... *sigh* _relieving_ yourself."

"The urges can get to anyone, even you; if anything, Shermie's the one who provided me the gateway drug to a lust I never knew was in me."

"That's just not healthy."

"But it feels better with each chance I get."

"What part about having to relieve those urges, do you think makes it 'feel better' each time?" As soon as Elisabeth relayed the question, she was given a snide expression from Ash, as though to say 'You _really_ want me to answer that for you?'

The noble hostess thought on it longer than she really should've "...On second thought, I shouldn't be surprised..."

"Mmm-hmm, now you see it," Ash snarked. "Maybe _you_ try spending years in the same home as an upstanding hottie."

One of Elisabeth's eyes twitched, taken aback by how regretlessly that was said. "...'Upstanding hottie'?"

"I know what I said." Ash kept that snarker's smirk on his face for more than enough time for it to settle like a resting face. He took the time to look at the slightest blush wiped across the Blanctorche beauty's face...

...Only to be obscured by Iroha's body as she abruptly mounted onto him, with a roll of duct tape in hand. "You might want to hold still, Mr. Crimson."

Ash was caught offguard by the plump imagery hopping on top of him. "Uhh~!? Is that the only idea you have left – just to silence me?" He wished he could savor the moment having that skimpy maid on top of him ( _for a reason that wasn't exactly MEANT to be sexual_ ), but he was busy struggling, his mood killed by prudy Betty's will.

Elisabeth insisted, "Ash, just let this happen. You've been growing an addiction over these past few days – this is a needed intervention."

"Inter—vmmhmm!?" Halfway through a single word, Ash was left without a chance to finish it once a strip of the grey tape stuck over his mouth, leaving him a flustered, muffled bother of a man.

It just showed what one could do to deal with a nuisance – with the help of the maid, Elisabeth had realized that quiet bliss that she wanted out of Ash ever since she shut the door on his face on the first day of proceedings within the tournament. Finally she could manage a smile, only for the sake that she was finally done with the conversation.

"My headache's already going away... good work, Iroha."

"You're welcome..."

"I wouldn't focus too hard where it wasn't most needed; you might want to keep a close eye on everyone else here." Elisabeth gestured backwards towards the rest of the room, which was as packed as it could be without having to spring for extra beds.

"What about you, though?"

"Oh, no worries. I've got plenty on my plate on just today alone."

Elisabeth could hear the faint sound of chains being struggled against – sparking from the other end of another door, to a room housing a bit of a storage closet for extra medical necessities – but yet she wasn't fazed all that much.

She actually seemed confident for the future. After all, she knew what she was doing, and what she did with her cohorts over the last night. A lot was possible if you put business over even _sleep_.

* * *

It was surprisingly how little trouble Aoi had sleeping, even with the reoccurring troubles the Hakkesshu had been bringing upon her ever since they started gracing the same space as the Kusanagi rebel.

After the first round, she woke up to the sight of the ceiling. However, on the day after the second round, she opened her eyes...

...and saw nothing but the brushing and blinding red locks of Shermie.

"Hi, Aoi. We need to talk. _Now._ "

Before Aoi could open her mouth, she was scooped into the strong arms of the French grappler and taken out of the room, being brought against the opposing wall with little care to her spine.

Ms. Kusanagi wasn't tip-toeing around her waking frustration. "Shermie, what the fuck?"

Shermie wasn't any more unsubtle with her reasons, however. "Ash went missing. I need you help..." She seemed a lot less playful and, for lack of better words, genuinely worried.

Aoi had a bit of an annoyed scowl. "You're kidding." She could not care about Ash in any positive way, even if there was a gun to her head. A lighting-fueled bimbo crunching against her body was close enough to that.

" _I wish I was, Aoi!_ I would've thought he'd be back by the morning at most, but that didn't happen – and only Orochi knows where he could be in this giant mansion!"

"And why should I be involved in _your_ problems?"

"Friends help friends – and I'm not risking my sanity and patience going on my own and opening every - damn - door."

"I find it hard to believe you're _this_ worked up over a guy you met like two days ago – who also happened to barge into my business."

"So I've heard – you were the last girl who saw him."

"Yeah, but you think I bothered to see where he went? Sure, I might've heard some shit going down behind closed doors, but I imagine someone else would care a tiny bit more – someone like—"

"*gasp~!* Athena!" Shermie turned her head, and just so happened to see the schoolgirl-outfitted Psycho Soldier passing by, alongside the girls who came to cheer her on since the last round; she swooped straight in to pluck the girl off the ground in similar fashion.

"Huh? Sh-Shermie?!"

Kaoru and Momoko were more than puzzled by the redhead coming in and snatching up their friend. "Wh-who the—?!" "Athena, no!"

Shermie had to snuff out the pursuit before it even got started, keeping Momoko at leg's length with a boot calmly blocking the dancing girl's path. "Gotta talk business with your friend, girls~"

Athena had a tough struggle in the arms of the pink-clad babe. "What are you trying to do?!"

"Ash's gone – need help – follow his essence – _now._ "

"Wha—Ash? What do you need him for?"

"Oh – that's right; I had a feeling you didn't know he and I are kind of an item now."

"What?" Athena managed to backflip out of her predicament, dusting herself off of all the unseen 'crazy worried girlfriend' essence Shermie's embracing result in. "Since when did he manage that? With _you_ , of all people?"

"About right after you and him talked on the first day – on the next door down from where Mattie and Vi' got down to 'business'. These doors and walls aren't sound-proof, honey." Shermie had a surprisingly amount of detail to think upon – then again, one would never forget a hookup like that.

"Now that I think about it, I'm not all that surprised you'd feel for him that way – or the other way around, either..." Athena hated admitting that. "But still, what makes you think it's right for me to help you?"

"It's a matter of love, _chérie_ – that's all it is."

"I don't think that's 'all it is' – with your alignments, there's clearly a deeper motive than that." Athena's arms crisscrossed before long as the discussion grew into a matter of offense against defense. "I can feel something in there, Shermie – there's no hiding anything from someone like me when I'm in the mood to find the truth."

Shermie's patience crawled up itself the same road as her stance in the conversation, and her attempted smile showed immediate cracks. "Athena, be a nice girl..." Clearly, this was not the usual composed and seductive Shermie we'd come to know – and she grew to realize she couldn't stand alone. "Psst~! Aoi – help me out here..."

In retort to Shermie's meek whisper for aid, Aoi chuckled. "Oh, you need help, alright..." she said, re-entering the conversation...

...and joining by the side of Athena, arms akimbo. "Just not the kind you want."

Now things were really much farther away from Shermie's advantage, now that she saw herself on different standings from who she considered a 'friend', and by all logic from how they've interacted, the air-quotes proved to elongate with each time they've even bumped shoulders in the building. This was even more of a problem for her.

She'd rather giggle the worry away, however – but it wasn't quite as carefree as she usually did it. "Aoi, please; you just don't understand..." There was a subtlety to the distress that was there; you could sense that beautiful mental posture cracking even slightly more as she tried to act and sound reasonable. "I just want my boyfriend – I almost never get a chance to love~"

Aoi snorted in a 'bitch please' sort of manner, in lack of smarter descriptions. "Implying Yashiro and Chris haven't had their turn double-teaming your ass..."

Athena was taken aback by the explicitly blunt comment. "Aoi?!"

"Just sayin'."

Shermie seemed barely offended by the terms, at least on the surface. She still had that 'two minutes away from losing it' sort of grin, though, so there was that. "What goes on between CYS _stays_ between CYS, Kusanagi – and what does that have to do with—?!" As soon as she started to hear her own voice raising, Shermie caught herself before any further, tugging on her clothing and holding her breathing beneath critical mass. "Y'know what? Forget Athena – we're in this, the two of us, Aoi..."

"Hey, what the— _not again!_ " Aoi found herself back in Shermie's '''caring''' arms, and she was ever so closer to throwing flames where it hurt the most.

Shermie completely ignored the struggles as she turned her attention back towards the psycho-powered idol one more time. "Athena, you go on with your day – the tournament can wait while we go about on the search."

Athena had a bad feeling about all that, sensing something wicked just around the corner as she stared past. "Uh, Shermie—?"

"Upp-upp~ _tais-toi, partir maintenant._ " Shermie quickly turned tail to make a sprint towards wherever, prepared to scope out her before the day ended...

...but as soon as she turned around, her legs stopped going, and she quickly lost her grip onto Aoi, dropping her to the ground, alongside that hurried 'smile' she used to have. "Ah, _merde._ " In the midst of this romantic dilemma, she didn't feel in the mood for this specific encounter brought upon her...

...And on the other side, Mature and Vice looked about as annoyed towards their cohort, for reasons of their own merit.

The blonde of the duo was first to open interrogations, "Shermie – could you care to explain why Angel decided to try and get comfortable in _our_ room?"

Shermie didn't exactly have time to consider the antics of her one-night stand – other more important lovers on the mind. "Ladies, please; I'm kind of in the middle of something—"

"Well, you're at the end of it now, 'third wheel'," snapped Vice. "We gotta have to have a long talk about this."

"Hopefully later?" It was _only_ a hope, though.

 _ **THWAP!**_ "Aah~!" Shermie was almost immediately caught by a lengthened arm of Vice, reaching from the end of the hall to grab onto Shermie's ponytail and yank her in.

"Closer to ' _now_ ', slag," Vice responded.

Mature cracked a grin at the insult stamped onto Shermie. "Hmph. Not the first word I'd think off – nor the last..."

And from there, the secretaries slithered out of the scene as smoothly as they entered, with Shermie looking particularly not in the mood for all of this; the last seen of the pink-clad babe in the moment was her begrudged cross-armed posture as she was dragged away, broken only briefly by a sort of 'call me' friendly gesture towards Aoi.

Speaking of – as she laid on the ground, staring on at the Hakkesshu trio leaving around the corner of the hall, Aoi couldn't help but to think, 'What the fuck just happened?' On a technicality, those secretaries had helped her, though only for their own priorities.

"Aoi..." Once the doom and gloom of the Hakkesshu fled the scene, Athena and her cheer-squad of two put in a group effort to help Aoi to her feet. "There aren't enough words for me to say how much I feel for you about what you have to deal with. All that grim baggage..."

"Trust me, _any_ amount of words is just not enough." It took a moment, but Aoi shrugged off enough of the afterthought of what transpired amongst the Hakkesshu – at the same time, though, she was far below wanting to delved deeper, now. "Not many have it as hard as I do – and right now, I just gotta get ready to deal with the rest of..."

 _ **Thump-thump...!**_

Aoi could feel her heartbeat struggling to stay on rhythm again – the bitchy secretaries were out of her sight, but not even close to being out of her mind. She could barely even stand – but by this point, she knew who she could rely on from just this neighborhood of rooms within the mansion.

"Leon _aaaaa_..." Aoi was about to collapse against the closed-locked door, even struggling with her energy just to knock – but thankfully, she could hear certain gears turning, allowing her to feel welcome for once.

"Ugh, thank God..." She opened the door, walking in without a second thought. "Just in time, too – I just wanted someone familiar to talk to..." She stopped. And fell into a meek shade of red across her face.

On first sight, you'd be troubled to find just what halted her mind about Leona. After all, all the Ikari Warrior was doing was adjusting her hair before the eventual next battle.

Calm in front of the mirror, body in its peak condition, no worries, no top...

...Oh.

"Is something wrong, Aoi?" She paid no attention towards where Aoi's stumbled onto, focused more on the brief distress she was hearing from the cursed Kusanagi. All the time in the Ikari barracks in the past may have desensitized her to seeing herself or others with a lack of some clothes, one could imagine, but that's coming from some who wouldn't know a thing about how her time was spent there.

What Aoi was dealing with, however, was a fairly embarrassing feeling beyond what she expected from a recently-gained friend – sure, she had briefly shared a shower with Shermie, but that was peaking at a different spectrum when it came to _that_ relationship.

She'd be embarrassed to admit, in full sight of the soldier's bosom ( _full nip and all_ ), that it sure as hell distracted her from those inner demons she'd love to escape from, that's for sure.

Even Athena had to retrace her steps, alongside her tagalong friends, back into the scene to sense why it suddenly felt so _heated_ again. Kaoru was especially puzzled, and confused, and Momoko was just plain mesmerized.

In other words, business as usual in one of many mornings in the 'Tournament of Dignity'.

* * *

"I hope you know what you're doing with this, Kagura."

"And I hope you've kept up on your skills, Diana. Not to poke too deep, but how long has it been since you last had a proper fight?"

"Does it matter?"

"In the matter of 'ring rust', I'd say so."

The next locale of recognition this morning: the main foyer.

Diana had her rapier firm in hand, powered primarily by her frustrations now that she was without the Ice Doll to care for – she was to be a part of what Chizuru had planned as a backup for how the Kula/Nagase fight turned out, and naturally, the butterfly-bladed swordswoman wasn't in the greatest of moods.

As it quickly came to appear, Diana wasn't the only person that seemed to be needed for Chizuru's arrangement, as Athena and friends arrived on the scene before long.

"Sorry if we're late," said Athena. "Momoko was busy... _ogling_."

"No, that's quite alright," Chizuru replied. "Can't stop the youth from being curious. Care the share the sentiment, Diana?"

Meanwhile, Diana was bafflingly fixated on the choice of wear that Momoko seemed to be presenting before her. "...Is that a _bunny sweater?_ "

"Yup!" The capo-girl smiled as though it the bunny-eared hood helmed over her head seemed within the norm.

Athena noted ahead, "Try not to get too hung up on how she ticks. She doesn't like being called for being beneath her age." A fair reminder of Momoko's high-school age, and her late-bloomer status if her slim and small build didn't already say on her behalf.

Diana turned her eyes towards Chizuru. "You expect me to think _she_ has what it takes?"

"I've seen a bit of what she's done – trust me, she's got potential."

Then another voice perked up for the first time. "What does that potential mean, _truly?_ "

Ninon's presence abruptly filled the air – without even a thread of recognition, she was right besides Diana in the middle of the room. "Because there's a difference between living up to others' expectations and to their own. They don't usually lead down the same road."

Diana damn near froze up. "...The hell is _she?_ "

Chizuru answered with a similar, unsettled gusto. "I'm in the same road as you, Diana."

"Don't be so surprised," Ninon retorted to the unfamiliarity she was welcomed with. "I'm sure Ms. Blanctorche has told you about me last night."

Externally, Chizuru seemed at least fairly calm when faced with the dark, pale witch. "Ahh... she didn't mention much."

Internally? ' _She's staring at me... STOP STARING AT ME..._ _ **PLEASE BLINK, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE.**_ '

Let's face it, the only one in the foyer who wasn't at least slightly uncomfortable with Ninon was Ninon herself.

But who was the most? From the look in Athena's eyes and her near-cling onto Kaoru beside her, the answer was clear. "Momoko, I... we think we should go, just to be safe."

Momoko was also caught with a patch of worry looking straight ahead at Ninon. "She creeps me out, too – I-I think I might want your support for this..."

"Sorry, but," said Kaoru, "if this match works under the same rules as the last round, we're probably not needed."

"Hmm." Ninon almost yawned at the idea of dealing with a handful of 'scaredy-cats' within the same field. She almost began to question the idea towards the battle-organizer. "Is there really any need of a contest anymore, Ms. Kagura? I feel like the others are already unwilling, and they haven't even _seen_ what I can do."

The comment from the dark lolita was capitalized upon by an unbending blade that retained its presence within Diana's hand, the edge pointed straight for Ninon's face.

Diana warned, "Not a chance, little girl. Don't think you can count me out here – I'll slice through, I don't care who you are."

"Steer clear of dismemberment," retorted Ninon. "Otherwise, I'll have to send that sword somewhere you wouldn't like."

"Save the bloodlust for a minute longer, could you, ladies?"

At the end of the necessary union, came Elisabeth – with the problem of Ash having been fizzled out for now, there was business elsewhere to tend to. "You haven't come here just to bicker with each other, you know."

And alongside her, came the fourth of the newcoming fighters for this intriguing bout – Shiki didn't look as familiar here as she did when she was a scratched-up, naked mess that lusted for blood, _among other things_ ; now, she was back in her blue and black garb ( _given an extra layer underneath in the form of some bandages covering up her wounds from last night_ ), held back from freely acting out by a link of chains keeping her wrists together and a blindfold that took advantage of her tendency to attack whoever landed on her sights. On top of that, her blades were kept tucked under Elisabeth's noble hand, so her best offense was kept away just to be further safe.

The vibe the imagery of the barely-stable swordswoman gave was mostly grim, but the reaction was assorted.

Diana kept her sword tight in her grasp, knowing she'd probably have to clash with Shiki's at some point; Ninon looked fascinated, reading intriguing competition from how the dark-haired lady looked before her; Athena and Kaoru were already on the way out, the former having taken as much as she could get in terms of 'bad mojo' coming off the spirits of the others, and Momoko didn't fair any better.

And this whole time, Elisabeth's face had kept the professional confidence she wanted to maintain, and for a reason beyond witnessing the problems slowly sort out under her hands. The battlefield was fully sorted before her – and it was just as she needed it.

"Now that everyone's here... I think it's about time we _officially_ get started with the day."

The cameras were ready again...

* * *

' _tais-toi, partir maintenant_ ' = 'shut up, leaving now'

 **Next Chapter: I think we all know what's about to go down...four ladies with an opportunity looming over them - it sounds like it's about time for something to kick-off the morning before the third round officially begins!  
**


	44. PRE-ROUND 3: Qualifier 4-Way (part 1)

A new day of broadcasting throughout the mansion began – wherever there was someone in the proximity of a screen, it showed the foyer as it was, with the hostess and her partner alongside the four ladies in the arrangement.

" _Ladies within the premises, may we have your attention?_ " The opening lines came forth from Elisabeth's lips, out for the rest of the building to hear.

In the infirmary, it took a few moments for the healing party to ring in their attention.

"Oh shit..." Vanessa was the first to bring her eyes towards the screen. She felt the wound on her arm burn underneath the bandages, from memories yet to be repressed, once she realized one of the people on-screen. "Mary?"

The blonde followed suit in seeing, the attention primarily on Shiki. "Is that the chick that tried to kill us yesterday?"

"I think so. I couldn't tell with her actually having clothes on."

A couple beds off to the left, Nakoruru laid with a faint pain still lasting from all the assault that she took – and she was probably the most confused of the bunch about Shiki's presence. "Wha... what are they planning with her?" Something in her god-given soul was worried with how Elisabeth could try and handle the unstable swordswoman. It may have been primarily from unfortunate experience against Shiki that fueled most of Nako's worry.

Elsewhere, a pair of widened eyes upon Kula's face nearly bulged out of their sockets as she sat up to make sure she was seeing who she thought she was seeing. "Wait... Auntie Diana?"

Mignon sat up next, feeling barely any better from yesterday, with perhaps double the fright in her eyes. "N-Ninon?!"

And then there was Nagase, who didn't even bother to budge while her body laid half-face down. "Who the _fuck_ is 'Ninon'?"

* * *

Elisabeth's words rang with a willingness to sort things out after a night full of uncertainty.

" _I'm sure some of you who remain, may have felt unsure of how you may stand in the next round of the tournament, after an... *ahem* …unfortunate outcome..._ "

For the most part, the Hakkesshu didn't really bother caring for the fact that the tournament was one person shy of having remnants of a proper bracketology leading into the next round.

Vice and Mature only cared to listen for the sake of seeing if any of those ladies could potentially be a victim to their hands – not to mention, they kept Shermie under grasp regardless of her detriment to the situation.

"All those girls look like they wouldn't stand a chance," noted Vice.

Mature smirked. "Hmph. As expected. By this point, the unripened fruit has been long torn from the branches. They're heading into a war they wouldn't understand..."

Shermie, the Vice-appointed 'third-wheel', didn't bother with saying a word – she wasn't exactly in a great mood with all the problems arisen in the morning. She'd take the lashing for now... but she knew she'd find a chance to break free and get her way again.

* * *

" _Chizuru and I have talked it over, and after recognizing that there are a few extra faces within the building than we intended to carry, what we discovered wasn't a decision to give anyone within the third round a chance to slip by without a fight – instead, we saw opportunity..._ "

The awkwardness had fallen away from the bond between Aoi and Leona a few moments before, now that everyone was properly dressed and at attention to Elisabeth and Chizuru's announcement.

Still, there wasn't much said between the two. Was there anything to say when it came to the battle ahead? When there was still much to weed out when it came to the awful people still hanging around?

Maybe there was still a little bit to agree on, but it was simply from demand and advice.

"Be ready for anything," Leona advised briefly. "Whoever breaks through, may not get through us."

Aoi couldn't make her response immediate. "...Right..." She couldn't simply focus on one thing at a time when it felt like fifty things were on her mind.

The whole 'kindred spirit' belief when it came to the Orochi curse – that on a whole was a mess of its own, even though the stability of the sort-of-friendship she had with Leona was alright for the most part.

* * *

In the address to the competition, at this point, the role was passed over to Chizuru partway, to continue the announcement.

" _Before us now are four women with a chance of a lifetime in front of them – some may have had the chance to fight for their life in days past, while others may as well be heading into their first ever tournament with a lot to fight for. This won't be a case of one-on-one, but rather a free-for-all between the collective..._ "

Athena and Kaoru heard it all on their way back to their room – and throughout, they were still thinking about Momoko's chances.

"I feel for her," said Kaoru. "She might have a fighting chance, but she's still a girl with a lot to live for."

"She's got potential, but..." Athena continually had the image of the other ladies in mind. "...everyone else looked more than fierce. It's less about how vulnerable she could be and more if she's outclassed by the rest."

It was difficult to feel optimistic for Momoko, knowing her relative novice experience beyond her one _KoF_ appearance, and just what she was going to get into.

* * *

" _Victory goes to the last woman standing, and the reward is a spot to fill in during the third round – this is not simply a battle for opportunity, but to test to see if they can truly live up to that opportunity and not seem like just a fluke by circumstance._ "

If that winner happened to cross paths with Lien, she'd make sure it _did_ feel like a fluke. She was more than ready to give a beatdown, especially with the tribulations she dealt with the day before with the fight against Mignon.

She was glad the shrill witch was damn near hospitalized, though a little unsatisfied it wasn't by _her_ hand rather than that witch doing herself in for the most part.

However, there was plenty of more for Lien to deal with by this point – including someone purring back around her way.

"Hey, blondie~" Lien suddenly felt the grasp of someone hook over her shoulder, and found Angel's mischievous smile greeting her on the end of her other side.

The wild grappler started the morning hot off a bit of a hookup with Shermie – and clearly she hadn't learned anything worth shit from that implied altercation she had with the secretaries, since she was now wrapping an unpermitted arm around Lien.

"How's that body feelin' now?" It was rough enough the day before when Angel first bumped leather with Lien, and it was more unwarranted here with came in between the first and second interactions.

Lien said nothing for a reason, as she didn't want her focus messed with by the more overtly sensual psycho.

On the other hand, Angel took Lien's annoyed silence as nothing but an urge repressed. " _Cariño_ , come on, you can talk to me; when you think about it, we're _both_ fucked in the head." Her over-wrapping arm was getting all too close to somewhere she'd regret going no matter which way it was able to move, whether it was lower down on the Brit's bosom, or up on her face where it looked like Angel was feeling the urge to help form a smile on the cold-heart's face by hand.

Speaking on that 'cold heart' – Lien didn't take anything even _close_ to it. "You even try to lay a finger where it doesn't belong, and you'll feel as violated as Yuri was."

"Whatever. You're just one of a house-load anyways." Angel decided to just take the threat at arm's length – unsurprisingly, the Yuri incident didn't even feel like baggage to her, more than just it being another day for her.

Hell, she wasn't even being subtle about her tendencies at this point – must've helped to learn that from Shermie over the night.

* * *

Time was taken for Chizuru properly 'introduce' the four set to fight, before long.

"Diana, an agent of change with a piercing blade; Momoko, a youth with a lot of warmth in her heart, and energy in her body; Ninon, a witch of mystery; and lastly, Shiki – this... vicious woman in a world she found herself falling into. Four hopefuls, yet only one opportunity."

To cap things off on the prelude to this, Elisabeth returned to the focus to ring back in the ladies surrounding the center of the foyer.

"I'm counting on all of you to give all you can. Even if your motive comes elsewhere, you fight like you want this."

The noblewoman's attention laid mostly on one of those four, however. "And Shiki... remember..." She removed the blindfold around the cold-blooded seductress, allowing those mismatched eyes to gaze vacantly ahead. "Remember what you agreed to. I can help you – and you can help in return by repressing that bloodlust." The weapons tucked under Elisabeth's arm traded off to her opposing hand, as she slowly offered it out to the black-haired individual.

Shiki's mouth hung slightly open in a shivered gasp, maintaining her often uncommunicative nature as she stared at the katanas being held out to her.

There was plenty of time that was dedicated over the last night just from Elisabeth's methods of keeping her away from those feelings of rampage. She knew for a long time there was something wrong with her, and even though she thought not to trust anyone ( _even as it was by a certain someone else's influence_ ), she couldn't help but start to take a gaze towards the good light the tourney hostess was offering to her all that time.

...She eventually took the blades by their handles, holding them close as she took a look around the rest of the room, at the other ladies who were prepared to face off.

Diana didn't seem all too impressed so far with the fellow blade-bearer – she saw a bit of a misleading shine in Shiki's swords, and she was uncertain of the care that woman had for them.

"Keep those blades clean, lady." The rapier-skilled agent kept her own blade at a body's length in turn. "Don't want anyone catching what you brought from wherever – or whenever – you came from."

Shiki said nothing. As usual. But her focus was locked deeply on this one opponent.

The caretaker of Kula was composed well enough to handle the cold stare of the dark beauty.

Seeing the look in Diana's eyes, Elisabeth could only presume, "I suppose Diana knows best of this situation. Can't say for the rest of you, but nonetheless, if we're all prepared... Kagura, if you would..."

Shiki made it clear by this point that Diana was her first target of this 4-way bout, and Diana as willing to give back in return. Not much to say on the behalf of the jumpy Momoko and the stoic but bemused Ninon, however...

With a nod towards Elisabeth's orders, Chizuru gave the first word to the finality of these proceedings – almost akin to a referee's professionalism. "On your guard...

…

And... _**FIGHT!**_ "

Limping her upper body forward, Shiki prepared to bring things close to start, ready to bring her vicious side to the competition—

"Alley _oop_ ~!" —but then she felt two feet suddenly spring onto and quickly off of her head in a hop-and-jump that capitalized on her focus being elsewhere.

Taking a much bigger risk than she should've considered based on the other three fighters, in came Momoko to literally jump into close contact, the elevation upon hopping onto Shiki with that mushroom stomp allowing her to head quite a distance into the sky.

Diana felt air separate inches from herself, from the momentum of Momoko's sky-high start-off, and she was almost unprepared for the feet flying towards her in a front-flipping pair of kicks. The agent narrowly blocked off the outburst of legwork with her sword, trusting the endurance enough to take it all.

"You got spunk, kid." Diana twirled her fencing sabre casually. "But how hard can you _really_ dance?"

She started on the offense and approached with some light, threatening thrusts, with a slight pull to avoid any deep pierce against the young capo-girl as she darted at her feet to keep her moving, just to be sure her defense was up to par.

Swaying her body enthusiastically to her own funky rhythm, Momoko allowed herself upside-down as she continued to swerve around the teasing point of Diana's sword. It was only until she dug herself deep into her maneuverability and spiraled out kicks from her handstand position that a spot of vulnerability was found on the 'Peach Child', curving around her sabre into a thrust kick against the girl's chest.

Momoko was floored for only a few seconds, recovering well and with the optimistic smile still burning...

...but she was promptly taken by surprise by a pair of legs wrapping against the sides of her head, as Shiki jumped back into the fray once the patience was gone. The snake-tattooed warrior's thighs pushed down on Momo as she flung forward, finally starting to go blade-for-blade with Diana while simultaneously fighting the balance of being upon a happy-go-lucky prospect's shoulders.

Shiki eventually fell forward off of Momoko's shoulders, and her legs found a new holding against Diana's body, the pushing weight bringing them down onto the ground before long with Shiki on top. Shiki rested a prodding heel against Diana's body as she scratched at her current opponent's sabre with the sharp double-blades, sparks fizzling off from the slow grind between similarly durable metals.

By this point, Diana started to take acknowledgment to the odd one out once she saw the last one of the bout casually hovering about a few inches away from the action.

"Now would be the time to jump in, kid." Diana stared up at Ninon, who was the only one in the four-way bout to have not done a lick of anything, on her own whim.

The dark witch was busy doing nothing of the sort while she hovered by. "Are you sure? Because it seems like you're making enough of a fool of yourself already."

The building frustration and anger within Diana helped her will to fight enough that she managed to overpower the pushing force from Shiki and rolled the favor onto its opposite – but the rapier-wielder was soon bombarded by tight grips...

"Gotcha~!" Momoko swooped back in, behind Diana, with a hugging clutch that proved surprisingly strong. Probably all that squeeze-work with her favorite pillow over the past few years...

Shiki found her legwork slowly becoming redundant, prying herself off of around Diana's waist and kicking her collective opposition out of the way as she rolled forward onto her knees. The twin katanas stayed in place within her hands as she watched the other two fighters struggle over each other.

Small but nimble legs taking a hold around her opponent's neck, Momoko flung down from a nosediving front-flip off and let gravity deal with the bare-possibilities, sending Diana into a rolling flop onto the ground. Before she could get off the ground, Diana was clocked in the back of her head with two bare feet as Momoko continued to maneuver about like she was at the peak of a sugar-rush, flipping over into a stomp as the psychic-in-training made her way the rest of the way across the battlefield.

Before long, though, Momo pulled her kicks once she started to see Shiki's blades dangerously come close into contact, smoothly keeping her pace into a vintage break-dance spin into a dismounting stance just inches away from where Shiki stood.

"Oh gosh..." Momoko's worrisome expression in the face of bladed terror painted the reminder of how the youth stood mentally in the scale between a brave soul and a scared soul – she wasn't exactly equipped to deal with this type of fight, and she may have started considering it a little later than she really should've.

Over the corner of one shoulder of Shiki, Ninon stared on with a wicked intrigue. "Hehe... how will you get out of _this_ one?"

One could imagine, between the blade-bearing creep on one end and the happy young kid with plenty of vulnerable spots on the other, that the answer would be, at the least 'with difficulty'.

And the odds went even further down with Diana in the mix, especially once she jumped back into the fray with a kick onto Momoko to bring her down, and a continuous dash out at Shiki for yet another weapon clash – and this time it was a lot more than pushing and grinding against each other's blades, as Diana's slashes came wildly out of her return to the fray. Shiki could only go wilder in the battle, with little choice but to fight back.

As the two weapon-tested ladies continued to circle around each other, letting sparks fly beyond their clashing blades, Diana's sight lingered here and there towards Ninon, who _still_ seemed to not yet lay a finger in the whole match by this point.

"This girl's starting to piss me off," Diana ultimately admitted. "Why does she even bother at this point?"

"Everyone has a point of true fracture in battle," Ninon explained, trying and succeeding not to look offended expression-wise. "I want to see how close you get to yours before I take a bite of the apple."

"The hell are you even talking about?!" Diana could not be rushed enough to say any more while she struggled to keep equal standing with Shiki's blades.

"Things you couldn't understand," Ninon retorted. "Just shut up and focus where it needs to be."

Diana gritted her teeth as her eyes wriggled in the direction between the two adversaries. "Cocky little—aah!" She was cut short by the feeling of the floor beneath her feet suddenly wettening – as a puddle formed under the will of a subtle gesture of Ninon. As a result, her footing completely deconstructed, and she was without a choice but to reinforce her defense as Shiki kept her kneeling with the push of her blades.

"Just as I thought," Ninon finally deduced. Things started as she wanted it to – and it was about to change quickly out from the corner of her eye...

…as Momoko eventually found her footing again and dove out against Ninon's hovering stature, only managing to budge her slightly before holding on.

"You aren't getting away with being so lazy!" Momoko tried for contact against the ground to get her center of gravity going as it should, but all she succeeded was some kicking mere inches too far from the ground. "Rrgh...! Put some work like you deserve your gift, you meanie! Just like I do!"

The frustrated youth forcibly wrapped around Ninon's waist did only enough to mildly irritate. The witch rolled her eyes... "As if I don't get this enough from Mignon..."

With a brief spin and a hand wrapping around, Ninon forced the prospect off and recklessly slammed her down with a palm smashing against Momoko's face.

Momoko kicked around in the struggle, half-limply – the back of her head stung from the trauma of hitting the floor. Soon the front of her face joined in the lingering pain, from the pinching of Ninon's nails on the fingers wrapped over, as well as the faint feeling of electricity coursing through the young spellbinder's hand.

Ninon eventually let go, shoving Momo' off and letting her try to sort out her own problems.

Momoko's stumble ended once she saw the swords of Diana and Shiki clash right in front of her – her heart jumped at the fear of possibly taking the collateral damage from the bladed battle, but she was thankfully unscathed...

...but perhaps only for as long as Ninon was willing to allow it. With a lift of her hand, she was already starting to influence the gravity of the weapons in the hands of her several opponents, as though she was trying to force them further against Momoko.

Meanwhile, the deadlock between Diana and Shiki meant they weren't exactly in the right of mind to break off to avoid any rising problems – it was a free-for-all, after all.

Believing in her safety and her survival, first and foremost, Momoko managed to get enough height to drop her feet on top of the swords, pushing the blade-holders down as she jumped out at Ninon with very little time to calculate her landing or what strikes she could connect with.

She thought for too long – Ninon easily caught her in the air, leaving her hovering like a feather above an up-pointing desk fan with the windy aura oozing out of her left hand... and she unleashed that wind with the most she built up, sending the Psycho Soldier prospect flying against the front doors of the mansion.

The rapier of Diana, and the left sword of Shiki were next to be cast off as a result of Ninon's blasting winds, spiraling out and embedding point-first on opposite ends of the wall to the back sides of the doors. There was another moment where Momoko saw danger incoming for a moment, but she was a little relieved yet pained as she laid against the closed double-doors.

If Shiki didn't quite have any words, Diana sure as hell did. "Not a chance, you creep..." She started to make towards the door to get her sabre out of the wall...

However, the weapon-deprived brawl found itself heading straight into the ground as Diana was tripped up leg-to-leg by Shiki and then pinned down in a desperate attempt to keep her opponent disarmed and without almost the entirety of her offense.

"Hrk—!" Diana gagged upon the crunching pressure of her opponent's body spreading up to her neck. There was a hand clutched against her throat, and another hand still had a katana left to hold...

As she kept her foe immobilized on the ground, Shiki's eyes gazed longingly into the reflective blade, knowing too well the powers that be wouldn't want her to commit direct murder. This was moreso because she could see them watching from the stairwell behind, through the katana's reflection. The silent judgment exuded at a level that even the eerie yet naive Shiki could understand, especially from hostess Elisabeth.

It wasn't the hardest burning gaze coming through the reflection, however – that went to Ninon, who observed patiently over the struggle going on.

"The victim's under your clutches – tell me, what's on your mind right now? Are you willing to risk it?"

Without even needing to know exactly who Ninon Beart was, Shiki sensed something familiar in the witch's eyes and expression. Something deep within, of a skilled young lady – but left with nothing but bad intentions remaining.

"No... _you_ have her." Shiki promptly plucked Diana off the ground and shoved her off towards Ninon, who didn't even bother to raise her arms to catch – so the rapier-skilled agent wound up nearly falling back down, thankfully managing to compose herself on her feet.

"The hell? You're just gonna piss off like _that?_ " Diana saw nothing but unfinished business, along with a need to re-arm.

A halting clutch around the wrist by Ninon halted Diana's advance, however. "Now now~ she can choose who to punish in this sort of match... and _so can I._ "

Ninon swept the leg before her opponent knew it, and she floored her with a surprisingly fierce throw-over. With Diana disarmed for the time being, Ninon had a certain advantage to the fight, and a chance to toy around for a little bit, for the hell of it.

Meanwhile, Shiki had limped her way over to Momoko, who had enough composure built up to quickly start fighting against the clutches of the time-displaced woman by kicking about in a fidgety manner. The young dancer was almost helpless as Shiki welcomed her into her arms, seeing the leftover katana still embedded off to the side.

However, under the buildup of fear-sweat in the uncomfortable clutches of her opponent, Momoko was eventually able to slip away before Shiki could raise a blade, flying through under her legs before leaping up and rolling into an upside-down dropkick against Shiki's snake-tattooed back to

As Shiki turned around to face her youthful opponent, she saw her scampering towards stage-left from the battlefield, visibly uncomfortable.

"N-no! Stay away from me with those things!" Faced with possibly the deadliest challenge to date, Momoko was left with no choice but to temporarily retreat from the scene, keeping her distance away from the opponent.

Shiki coasted forth, on her own pace, slowly out of the foyer

On the bright side, it was convenient that the tournament was under control of _two_ ladies...

"Elisabeth," Chizuru glanced back at the tourney hostess, "I hope you don't mind, but I think I should keep an eye on that fight – make sure nothing goes wrong..." She was already starting to make her way down and around the stairwell towards Shiki's limping path.

Elisabeth shrugged, her focus beginning to readjust to the two remaining in the room, fighting right at the end of the stairs. "I was about to consider the same thing..."

* * *

In the time between her getting knocked down by Ninon, and the spread-out of the fight thanks to the pursuit of Momoko by Shiki, Diana was starting to get into the thick of things, making a tiny bit of success in her struggle against the young pale witch – nothing too gradual at the moment, however, since Ninon needed a surprisingly small amount of effort to take advantage of the weaponless Diana, and the effort was still paying off a slight. The dark-magic electricity she chose to course through her arm kept a consistent flow, blistering through against her opponent like a livewire.

Eventually, a stroke of luck. In one brief moment, Diana overpowered her age-inferior with a sloping leg sweep and then dropping the leg over 's chest with a tactical stomp – in the next, Diana managed to find her distance away from the opponent, rolling through towards the doors with range in mind to Ninon's potential pursuit.

With a reach and a grab, the sabre came out of its enforced place in the wall and was given a swift 180 turn within its user's grasp – and it found a place pointing within an inch's contact of Ninon. The witch flinched, yet in a way so brief and small that you'd be hard-pressed to believe she did even with a slow-motion replay.

Regardless, she was at least halted by the

Diana's sabre twirled with enthusiasm, taking in the idea that she might have the advantage over the eerie youth. "Stand down, or get on my level. Take your pick."

Ninon knew her opponent was mostly expecting to find a method to strike fear within her… but all she could discover was a calm grin. "Fine... If you're so desperate to cling close to your toy, I guess I have no reasonable choice but to have one of my own."

With a crack of her knuckles and an emerging sinfulness in her eyes, Ninon kept her palms together magic coursed even faster through her gifted body...

...a pitch-black line of energy formed in between the center of her palms as she split them away, joined by an amalgamation of red and blue electricity. As soon as her hands were out at opposite sides of her body, the dark, electric whatever-the-hell-was-forming was about a couple feet wide hovering before her face, at around the same length as Diana's blade.

Upon a longer moment to try and establish what the witch had formed, it seemed to not just share the same length as her opponent's weapon, but an identical handle as well, to the point where it looked like a carbon copy – a very _witchcrafty_ carbon copy at that.

Ninon spun her new sabre with a similar flair as her opponent, as a means to taunt her. "En garde, milady...?"

Diana came to realize just how much Ninon took 'get on my level' to mind. It nearly fell to the point of absurdity. "It's almost like you know exactly what you're doing – even though you're just a kid. Who... _what_ are you?"

Ninon felt at her dark blade with a sure and prepared expression... "This dull world's best kept secret. So secret, that they haven't even realized it..."

* * *

 **You can only thank the holiday pre-hype I've started to build for me managing to get something out this month after an admittance of burnout on my profile if anyone happened to see.**

 **The side effect? I had to split this match off into a two-parter due to not just how much I'd need to do for double the competitors involved, but also what I've started to come up with in terms of the finish and the post-match stuff. I imagine, with Christmas and the new year coming up, this may be it for 2019, unless my holiday hype increases over time and I get either the next chapter of this or something new thrown in for one last hurrah to the year.**

 **Next Chapter:** **Part two of the qualifier bout! Not much else to say besides prepare for anything, as usual...!**


	45. PRE-ROUND 3: Qualifier 4-Way (part 2)

Where the free-for-all last left off, the inevitable split-off between pairs of opponents had occurred. Diana and Ninon were prepared for a clash after interesting developments, while Shiki was on pursuit against a temporarily-retreating Momoko.

It was only a matter of time before the competition, full of newfound opportunists, dwindled down...

…

While she had a clear target on that young Psycho Soldier prospect, Shiki took her time with her pursuit to accommodate her limp and uncertain way of going around – enough time for the girl in her crosshairs to find somewhere to lay low...

Once she entered the new room, Shiki was faced with a new, fuller arrangement of furniture in a smaller space compared to the central foyer. Not much to the right, with her being merely inches from a wall where she stood at the door way – but to her left, a cloth-covered table, looking to be one worth dining on, with the only other object laid above the cloth being a small cluster of candles.

Shiki had yet to fully grasp the architecture of the building, a side-effect of her displacement within the modern day – but despite that on top of the rest of her generally lost mind, she knew her way around scoping for fresh blood.

She could tell, almost _smell_ the fear coming from somewhere in the room...

…

Momoko tried her hardest not to sweat under the pressure, worried she may slip out of place. If her opponent knew exactly where she was, she would have a much harder time once she retried offense.

The youthful fear in her mind only got worse once she started to hear things.

Plenty of 'metal grinding into wood and cloth' things...

…

Instead of thinking reasonably and throwing the cloth off and aside from the table, or even deciding to get off it and look underneath, Shiki decided to start stabbing her way into it with her katanas. She slowly tore her way through each layer settled above, below and inside the table, just for a means to seek out the challenger.

No drop of blood out of her enemy, coming out of this, was going to bother her – for what she had endured in her timeline, her feelings were far from wired right.

Eventually, she tore away enough chunks out of the top of the table to see through a hole within it – but nothing. She saw nothing in the semblance of a scared girl.

Then she started to hear the creak and jiggle of something, coming somewhere else. By then, she was taking notice of the longcase clock sitting against a wall, near the table. Didn't need a detective to figure out where suspicions truly were, between the light quaking of the clock and the obvious gap in between it and the wall.

Suddenly, _**THWACK!**_ Down came the tall clock, with the downward momentum of a mallet, smashing against the partially-blocking Shiki – one of her swords pointed outwards at the clock, and wound up stabbing through the wood, but she still took some of the aggressive furniture upon her head, glass shattering into bits over her.

She wasn't too fazed regardless of the sudden assault, her eyes beginning a focus once she started to see Momoko's form peeping out from behind the clock.

The dancer took a moment before jumping up and straight back down with knees upon the wooden grandfather clock, attempting as much pressure as her petite figure could give.

Shiki retaliated swiftly against the weight pushing against her body, swerving sideways as she forced the tall-case clock over and onto the table, pinning Momoko down as the wood-stabbing katana was pulled out.

Mass took its toll, and the table half-collapsed soon after, forcing everything on top to spill over onto the ground, competitors included.

Momoko took the majority of the force dropping down over top, momentarily crunched underneath the clock as it fell with her – while Shiki managed to avoid taking a full tumble to the ground, her footing too expect to let gravity take her down _that_ easily.

Recomposed before long, Shiki let a foot linger atop the toppled clock as she stared down on her opponent. "Your technique... it's... nowhere even close to mine, is it, child?"

Pestered by the stoic taunting of her intimidating opposition, Momoko had quite the struggle with the noticeably damaged grandfather clock on top of her small body. She was sweating bullets from strain _and_ fear.

Shiki's blades handled in opposite directions as the heel of her boot dug deeper against the wood...

…when suddenly...!

 **POW!** A brief pink blast, coming from Momoko's youthful courage, busted a hole through the clock, the collateral damage knocking Shiki back in a way that her wood-standing leg flung nearly past her shoulder as she flipped backwards. A rarity in the events of the tournament so far, seeing Shiki actually get leveled like that.

For a moment, she couldn't even believe herself as she started to get up, craning her neck over as she saw the hole-blown tallcase continue to rustle about on the ground.

Eventually, the wood fully split off from the opposite sides of the crater, as Momoko sat up under her own will – her aching, pained will – and managed to barely stand up. One would imagine the jelly-like feeling through her numbing limbs as she tried to get over the influx of Psycho Power that her barely-experienced body just had to unleash.

"You made me do that..." she said. "I'm already feeling woozy from that. Please don't make me do it again..."

Shiki took a momentary look at how the younger opposition was standing, and before long, she re-tightened the grip on her katanas. Any sense of worry that she could imagine feeling for the prospect was already gone now that she understood which of the two fighters were able to handle their own strength better. Another feeling, however, crawled in to share the space in her mind, as she continued to lock eyes with the girl.

One of Shiki's katanas ground at the tip against the flooring... her tongue barely peeked out from behind the corner of her mouth, a little hesitant to lick by.

"I'll gladly see your potential..."

* * *

It took a moment for the blade-for-'blade' round between Diana and Ninon to get into the thick of things, as the two spent a sabre's length away from each other, occasionally twirling their respective weapon, having yet to make contact with the other.

Diana spoke first. "Be honest with your weapon, kid – is that thing going to follow by the rules of what a sabre should do, or will it burn through me like a laser?"

"Depends on what you want."

"Don't bullshit me." Diana lunged forward with the point of her thin sabre, managing only to poke slightly against Ninon's monochrome-black dress as she brought her blade into a blocking spot. The answer to what Diana asked the little witch seemed clearer as the former, as the legitimate sword and the magic-shifted sword collided naturally, with no showcase yet of one overpowering the other.

The blades continued to hug against each other as the wielders paced slowly in a tight circle, metal and magic continuing to make contact even as wrists twisted up, down and around to adjust. Both were going above and beyond to keep on the level of the other, making sure that the age difference was the tiniest factor.

Diana's stance and tactics were simple but optimal, among the more knowledgeable methods of keeping up with the experience she had, and just simply keeping things direct; Ninon was the slightest more unorthodox in comparison with how graceful her legs lingered about – as a matter of fact, she had the magic factor ahead of her as she was allowed the chance to defy gravity. A floaty ballet style to her maneuverability, in short.

The subtle flaws here were mostly on Diana's part, for her slight underestimation against the witch; it started once she knocked in an opening by slapping Ninon's dark rapier out of central focus and coming in with a snide kick to the gut to bring the witch's feet back down, touching the floor, before proceeding to prod low.

The sabre came towards one of Ninon's knees, threatening to clip through; her right leg shifted backwards as Diana's sabre poked outwards, nearly forming a split-legged position as she shifted as quickly as she could to get her sword back into a clash.

Though she hated to feel even the slightest open in the heat of battle, Ninon was not perturbed enough for it to affect her plans in the long term.

With the faux-blade of darkness as the current, a flash of lightning coursed through until it shot out and caught Diana on one of her knees, opening up a vulnerable spot as she was caught half-kneeling with a sweeping kick afterwards. The end result now, was Ninon standing on top, pointing her blade down on the elder NESTS alumnus.

Ninon smiled sinisterly over her opponent. "The demiurge's thunder; you like?"

"The demi- _what_?" Diana's eyebrows curved in confusion. "The hell are you on about?"

"Hmph... as expected, you know nothing."

The moment taunting what her opponent didn't know, however, was what deprived Ninon of the rest of the time to spend standing on top – as she was almost immediately tripped up from beneath herself with a scissoring kick from Diana.

To recover, Ninon hovered into a magic-assisted cartwheel, managing to recompose gracefully as she maneuvered around. The dark weaponry was prepared for piercing in a moment within her hand, as the witch charged down at the floor where Diana laid.

 _ **Vwrp~!**_ Diana was gone in a single moment, a blink of light, and Ninon only landed on the air the opponent left in her vanishing. The sound of teleportation sounded off not too far away from where Ninon knelt, a little bit behind her.

In fact, she could hear the wind separate as a zooming danger loomed soon. She merely smirked at that danger...

"You aren't the only one trained to translocate..."

 _ **Vwoosh~!**_ This time, Ninon warped out of harm's way, leaving Diana to halt her swift dash before she lost balance.

A teleport for a teleport left the 'Diamond Guardian' getting frustrated on beyond a single spectrum. "Damn... this girl's no slouch..."

Predicting the direction of the attack upon the witch's return, Diana threw her arms back over her shoulder, bringing the blade over her back ( _while trying not to harm herself with it_ ) in a backwards guard.

Once she returned into the physical realm, Ninon had a moment to see Diana's blocking position – and refused her even the satisfaction to catch the attack within the clutches of her defense. Instead, Ninon went very low with a jabbing heel-stomp that caught Diana on one of her ankles.

Diana gritted her teeth and fought through the ache as she tried to shove herself backwards against her opponent – but she felt the witch brace upon the ground, and opted to work off the placement of her sabre, which was stabbing into the ground ever so slighty, and flipped herself backwards. Vaulting over the young dark witch, Diana wound up behind Ninon...

...only to feel the opponent literally warp through her and out of her grasp. She almost felt the aura of the dark Beart sister shiver her bones as she clinched onto her sword.

From Ninon's vanishing spell off of _this_ instance, Diana had no clue of which direction she was going to come from this time, and her blade pointed all around the place in the growing piece of frustration and paranoia she was coping with. Eventually, her eyes landed on Elisabeth, who stood at watch this whole time, at the middle of the stairwell.

"You seriously gonna let that little brat try and mess with me like this?" Diana's weapon was nearly pointing out at the Frenchwoman.

Elisabeth sneered, seeing a little bit of patheticness seeping through in the observed fighter. "I'm simply the hostess, Diana. It's _your_ problem to deal with by hand, not mine."

Diana sighed, finding it hard to keep full respect with the fight-runner. "I swear, I'd expect you have more of a handle on this sh— _urgh!_ "

A slice of magic warped past the previously stepped-on ankle of Diana, officially knocking her into a half-kneel, as Ninon slid back into reality with her artificial weapon welcomely handled.

"Don't you see, agent? The hostess has more respect for class and potential more than just style over substance." Ninon's eyes glared with an evil glint towards the hostess. "Care to admit it, milady?"

"I can't hold bias, Beart. Even if you or your sister have plenty of potential." Though she could admit the potential factor, Elisabeth had more than a mind to also admit just how eccentric the Beart family might be on the basis of the young ladies in the bloodline.

Of course, it wasn't just that – whether there's a win or a loss for the witch was a part of the matter...

* * *

The Shiki/Momoko bout was really starting to even up in pace, as the two spent a good chunk of time since where it was left off pacing over one another with lots of maneuverability incorporated.

Shiki crawled with slow sinister thoughtfulness, examining the opposition, body part by body part, seeking out what was likely the most vulnerable; meanwhile, Momoko bounced around like a monkey experiencing a sugar high, feet and hands hobbling around the floor with a varied number actually touching said floor from second to second.

Shiki got in close first in this phase of the encounter, sprinting shortly before crossing her arms in a side-to-side slash at her, but it got barely anything against Momoko's tiny, hard-to-hit body; at most, the time-lost femme fatale could've clipped the big pink belt that held Momo's loose shirt in place.

Momoko met up on the milliseconds Shiki would lose, with a front-vault into a handstand, in the middle of which she casually curved leg and plopped a foot atop the top of Shiki's head. It didn't exactly knock her where she stood, but it did catch her attention, just as Momoko flipped backwards through a handspring/cartwheel conversion to escape the close range battle for just a moment.

Shiki caught up quick to her target, dipped low and flung her legs in a crescent sweep to try and knock the girl off her feet – it looked like a success at first once she connected with Momoko's ankles...

...but a dance-fighter does what a dance-fighter can do, and Momoko used the momentum of her body landing back-first and her legs flopping inwards, to kip back up and over with the same wooshing force against gravity. Of course, she wasn't without a stumble, potentially leaving an opening for her opponent.

Thankfully for Momo', she managed to make a quick leap out of the way of Shiki's dive-in, scampering off and away from the fight. Her travels led her towards and up a wall with her amusingly wild maneuverability, as she ran and sprung off the wall with a flip just as Shiki was chasing her, causing the snake-tattooed fighter to nearly slam herself into the wall if it wasn't for the swords she shanked against the hard surface to stifle momentum.

Momoko nearly fell out of balance upon landing from the backflip, barely skidding away on her butt as she fumbled her way back into her combat stance. With the opening presented to her, Momoko managed to get in a dropkick against the cursed ink upon Shiki's back. It gathered less pain than attention as Shiki looked over her shoulder in the midst of extracting her swords from the wall, and at the while, Momoko's dancing feet were dancing harder than ever.

"Here we go~!" Momoko cheered to mostly herself as she charged forward and laid in another stabbing kick against Shiki's chest.

The placement of her foot allowed her to bounce off Shiki's bosom like a trampoline, spinning back into an almost-graceful landing as she continued to face off against the threatening opponent with non-stop kicks.

On the other end, Shiki was not going to just take the punishment where she stood – not for herself, for those who call to her, or for her future-born. Before she was in too deep against the peppy Psycho-Powered girl's combo, the fearless competitor was already suppressing the attack with one of her own once she laid the swords forward with a blunt-side cross-strike. The blades came wildly and swiftly, though it was mostly the dark, ravaging aura that did the work of pressing down damage.

One of the swipes of the blade brought wind to drag Momoko briefly upwards, until she choicelessly landed upon Shiki's swords, which thankfully for the dancer only pierced underneath and through the sleeve holes of her shirt. The fear of actual impalement was out of the way, but Momoko was still stuck in the grasp of Shiki's katanas as she carried her forward towards the back end of the room.

The swords slowly threatened to cross against Momoko's body as she was eventually pinned against that wall, kicking helplessly as she started to feel the breath out of Shiki's pale body as she leaned up on the girl.

"You... you remind me..." Shiki's shivery voice gasped out. "Of what I want my child to be..."

"Wha... what...!?" All this little bit of knowledge into her opponent's personal beliefs was getting Momoko was 'stranger danger' red-flags.

"Shhhh..." Shiki raised a very untrustworthy finger to the lips of the girl. "Not by my full choice, I can spare you of pain... and if you want, I can raise you to be my own kin..."

"N-no!" Momoko struggled even harder. "That's really, really not okay with me, ma'am!"

"I won't mean you harm anymore if you give in," Shiki reasoned. "Look into these eyes and see a woman who struggles to feel alive..."

Though attempting to seem sincere in a way, all Shiki was succeeding in, was unintentionally being terrifyingly predatory. Naturally, Momoko put all her efforts in wanting out of this grasp before it got any worse for her.

Momoko's spirit remained defiant, even through the period of intimidation and just otherwise uncomfortableness squeezing down on her like cinderblocks slowly burying over her, brick-by-brick. Desperate times meant looking deeper within herself, and finding just a bit more of that Psycho Power she needed to escape as much as she could.

"Go _away!_ " With a desperate outstretch with her arms, another shockwave of power came bursting through from Momoko's palms, right in Shiki's face.

From the looks of things, the outburst of energy may have been more than intended, since within a few seconds, the whole room was enveloped in nothing but a pink light...

* * *

 _Back to the other end of this showcase..._

Ninon was savoring the moment on top, her smile reserved and her stare cold on her opponent.

On the other hand, Diana had yet to get back into things with the fight, having been suppressed in her movement with one rough connection at the ankle – her leg was nearly crumpled in protectively, and she was unwillingly easing towards a grasp for mercy...

"I feel your time in this match is already winding down to its last thread," Ninon claimed. "That is, unless you think otherwise."

Diana wasn't at all looking forwards to a defeat. Not when she had plenty of reason to go forwards in this tournament – the primary being redemption in picking things up where Kula left off.

She retorted... "I'm thinkin' I'll think... the way I'd _want_ to think." She was probably better off wording it better, but she knew exactly what she'd like to day. "And do you want to know what I think?"

"That I'm evil?" Ninon's arms rested '''innocently''' behind as she approached a little closer... "That I'm a bad influence?"

 _Stomp!_ With barely a care for the person she had the advantage over, Ninon dropped a foot onto Diana's dominant hand, pinning it against the ground with a ruthless intent, and a pinching poke from the back, around the opposite point of where Diana's palm would be.

Ninon admitted with a shrug... "Maybe. But I'm in the _right._ "

Crunching some of the rival's hand under her boot, as close as she could get to popping a knuckle or other miscellaneous hand bone beneath, Ninon let it scrape backwards against the skin, lingering her leg...

...and then swinging it back forwards, right across the side of Diana's head. The surprising power in that wind-up kick had the potential to knock an eyeball past its lids, but that was only one of the worse scenarios, one which wasn't where Diana approached, thankfully. Regardless, she was nearly fully down on the ground, but wasn't spared her consciousness _quite_ yet.

"When was the last time you were relevant, Ms. Diana?" Ninon interrogated, the witch pacing about in front of the adversary laying before her. "...Come to think of it, when was _anybody_ in your squad last relevant, in _or_ out of the _King of Fighters_ tournaments? NESTS has been a thing of the past for more than a decade now. Are you still that desperate to cling onto destiny even when it had died down so long ago? I mean... I wouldn't be surprised, considering now the whole lot of you have spent your time hanging onto the coattails of the military."

"For a little shit, you've got a big load to talk about..." Diana grunted. "I think you might know... urgh~... a little _too much_."

"If only..." Ninon tapped Diana on the chin with the very tip of one of her heavy-soled boots. "I'd dream of knowing more than anyone in your guild ever would. The thing is, my knowledge comes from not science... but from Hell, Heaven, and wherever realms of death in between the cracks of Earth and the clouds of the sky."

The witch spoke as though Diana would give a damn about Heaven, Hell, or whatever religious undertones that were lingering between the lips of the little brat. The NESTS alumnus was keeping a desperate hold onto her weaponry, her sanity, and her fighting spirit at the moment, and even as she was being leveled against her condition and footing, she was still trying to fight through the pain.

Ninon raised an eyebrow of intrigue, seeing the opponent start to climb back up to where she half-kneeled a couple moments before. "Oh? You're still trying to get up? Maybe you're not so washed up..."

Diana gritted her teeth with frustration against the youth. "Kids these days... just keep judging... and never understanding what us ladies are all about."

She plucked her sabre off the ground and looked ready to slash once she got over the pain of her attacked ankle. She climbed back to her feet under the power of her good leg, and prepared the backhand swipe.

"This ends he—!" _**VWOOSH!**_

A spurt of pink light soared in from the right, maintaining for a moment before fading off quickly...

 _ **CRASH!**_ A sound of a wall crashing in on itself was heard off to the left, and at the same time came the dust clearing out from where Diana had stood – emphasis on ' _stood_ ', as she was gone in the next moment once that abrupt beam came and went.

...and cratered in that demolished wall, implied out of the brutal sounds.

Ninon stood and blinked against the sight between where Diana was _previously_ and where she was _now._ The pale little witch was... _unsurprisingly_ unfazed by what just happened.

"Just as I thought – too little foresight in that body, to maintain eyes on the back of her head..." Definitely took weight off having to spend further effort taking down the guardian fencer herself. Her eyes were now focused at the smoke and soot clearing out from the next room ahead.

'Ground zero' of the blast was surprisingly not as destroyed as you'd expect. It was with great relief the beam chose to soar through the doorway than through any walls.

The originator of the unintended destruction, Momoko, was not much better in condition as those she hit with what she had. Her shirt was now with a couple tears where the katanas of her opponent hooked under and through, and was starting to look in a condition where it could fall fully off if it wasn't for the big pink belt hooking 'round. Her hair flopped out of place in spots, and her headband was about to fall off of her head. Just nothing but a sweating heap, and some soot and dust over her face from the point-blank fire at her foe.

Speaking of, from the initial sight of things, there was no sight of Shiki...

...until she casually phased back into the room in a warp of blue, looking barely mangled. Even in the slightest of windows to escape, it seemed she was able to handle it – almost unvexingly so.

Unlike Momoko and the power _she_ held – with a single nudge to the back from her opponent, she unconsciously flopped face-down, out of it before she was fully down on the ground.

Shiki took a moment to briefly lament over the fainted potential that she stood over. "What a shame..." She then started to saunter past, face resting neutral and pace fairly unhurried.

The first thing that caught Ninon's pinkish-red eyes were the mismatched red and blue of Shiki's. From first sight, her attention was gained. "Well-well... what do we have _here?_ " She approached without caution.

Shiki kept her guard down and her focus completely upon Ninon, and the witch met back with unclenched fists, no intent just yet until she knew a little more of what she was dealing with. An invisible stream of curiosity linked the two of them, from one pair of eyes to another, scanning just a little bit into the soul of one another...

Bearing witness to the final two standing toe-to-toe not too far from her position, Elisabeth was a slight cautious with how she was hoping things would turn out. Her pure soul could recognize the threat the darkness shared between Ninon and Shiki...

Meanwhile, after subtly removing herself from center focus in the scenery alongside the hostess, Chizuru slowly made her way back into the scene after her time to observe ended just as the Shiki vs. Momoko fight did, clearing through what little of the blast's smoke remained. Just one of a few who were up to witness what came next with those who remained...

As soon as she caught her cohort out of the corner of the room, Elisabeth spoke out. "Keep your distance for a moment, Ms. Kagura. I sense combustible elements could be in play."

Chizuru nodded silently, taking a few steps into the back corner near the doorway in the hopes that the sinister aura that she felt from there wasn't too built with potential to harm with collateral damage.

The rest of this intriguing bout had yet to kick back into full gear... and only God knows how it could turn out.

* * *

 **Welp, now it's sort of a three-parter. I guess. Also I'm kinda worried some of my sorta-writer's-block struggles bled off onto my fellow writers in the KoF fandom. I at least managed to get in the latter few thousand words down within the past couple days.**

 **Next Chapter:** **A battle of dark vixens closes out the qualifier bout – but the chaos doesn't end there...!**


	46. PRE-ROUND 3: Qualifier, Two Remaining

**Just want to wish everyone a happy Valentine's day – even though by the time this chapter is out, it'll be near the end of the day. Regardless, I hope everyone's had their fill of love, because this chapter's gonna make you wish there _was_ some proper lovin' here.**

* * *

"Somehow... I feel like you would better understand my inner nature..."

Ninon could recognize the perpetual undertone of sadness in Shiki's resting face. A blue heart not full enough to become a properly warm red. Felt about time to take advantage of that...

"Most people seem too emotional, too colorful for my taste. Even some of my own family..."

"...'Family'?" Shiki was unsurprisingly stumbling over her thoughts as she considered that word specifically.

Ninon shook her head pessimistically. "It's complicated. Not worth speaking about. I'm more interested in _you,_ however." She took a step closer on the gloomy assassin, reading her whole body like a book of spells. "By the way you dress yourself, and how you handle your swords... it's almost like you aren't meant to be here."

"I'm not from here," the dispirited yet pitiless Shiki admitted softly. "...I don't know _where_ I am."

"Could be Hell. I imagine you'd think there's a possibility you are, by how your thoughts seem to reluctantly slide from your tongue." Ninon had walked around behind Shiki by this point. Her eyes looked as though they were starting to glue against the sight of the tattoo swirling down the blue-clad outsider's back. "And this ink you carry... was this by _your_ choice... or someone else's?"

Shiki emitted a brief gasp as she felt a thumb travel its way down the trail of the snake on her back. The little witch circling her was certainly not pulling away from her attempts to feel about her body.

"...No response?" Ninon could consider Shiki's momentary silence as plenty of different things. "I understand... from the feel of things, it seems like you're not so sure yourself." Her hand started to reach elsewhere now from the front of the opponent – this time, towards the other end of the body-enveloping snake tattoo, which swirled around Shiki's left leg.

Ninon's focus on where she was feeling up her opponent wound up leaving her too numb elsewhere, not managing to realize she was swept at the feet until after she felt her balance knocked about with one swift sweep.

Shiki raised a blade, as she swooped an arm around Ninon's back, and then drove that blade down...

The sword landed very short of actually stabbing Ninon, managing to graze past the pitch-black, red-electric sabre of the young witch along the way – but the lingering sharpness pushing against the right of her face, wettened by the faint drips of blood, made it clear she wasn't getting off scot-free with how she was going about her business with the opponent.

The swift restraint in the violent tendencies of Shiki left her with not much to go by short of leaving all sorts of non-fatal cuts on her opponent – the most that could satisfy would be whatever to do with the blood on the blade.

Which she licked without reluctance.

 _Now_ Ninon was at attention. "I've heard of a bloodlust, but... there truly _does_ seem to be true lust in what you're doing."

Shiki twirled her blood-stained katana to point ahead past the angle of which Ninon was leaned back. "I like your spirit... so dark... almost hopeless..."

Ninon retorted, "Not necessarily 'hopeless'. More ambitious."

She then retaliated with a brief stomping kick against one of Shiki's knees, only managing to budge her slightly. However, the witch managed enough leverage on her own to backflip out from over Shiki's holding arm. Flashing out from her palm came a spurt of flame, but Shiki quickly blocked it and confirmed her spot in the brawl with a dashing slash.

The slash missed Ninon as she waltzed backwards in a floating rotation, meeting back on her opponent with an ominous grin and a beckoning gesture with her magical weapon. "Come now; let's keep that spirit high, shall we?"

Shiki tightened the grip on her blades as she tried again, making a forward-leaping spin as she sent a leg swinging in a crescent, destined for domepiece on the drop of the heel, but Ninon narrowly caught it, and retaliated with her own kick up against Shiki's jaw.

Shiki caught Ninon's leg before it fully dropped back towards the ground, making a rebuttal with another low-sweep kick to throw the little witch off her balance. From there, she kept the girl from easily retaining her balance by dropping her foot down on her chest and pressing her onto the ground. Her expression grew a little testy, dissatisfied with choosing the taste of her _own_ blood instead of another's once she grew to recognize how much her teeth clung on opposite ends of her tongue upon her jaw getting struck.

Ninon knew it would take a lot more than a single foot pressing on her chest to keep her on the floor, though she had a tendency to take the easy – read lazy – way out and throw some dark-mage bullshit into the fray. When she decided to take her magic to the advantage, she looked to phase through the floor, much to Shiki's subtle, though delayed reaction of confused fascination.

The brooding warrior only caught it at the last moment where her opponent was coming from, sneaking up from behind and trying to wrap herself around the weapon-clinging arms.

Ninon's eyes fluttered right against her opponent's, cocksure. "Surprised?"

" _Irritated._ " Shiki drove an elbow backwards to physically tell Ninon to fuck off of her personal space.

Then, with a defiant gesture – spitting the blood from her bit tongue and letting it splotch on Ninon's face – Shiki briefly staggered the pale oddity and took her down with legs scissoring against ankles.

Again, after vanishing out from the floored position, the witch reemerged from wherever her magic tended to bring her in the midst of her dark translocations, dropping down from above and attempting to crush down on her opponent effectively with a double-stomp. Because it didn't fully follow through to a takedown, Ninon felt a chance to poke down on her opponent with the unreal sabre, to suffice instead.

Regardless with the opponent's methods of advancement, Shiki's stature proved strong against this sort of method, bracing her standing position as strongly as possible.

This was much to the bemusement of Ninon, who was able to platform herself into a stance on top of her opponent, pondering the predicament. "I see you can handle a bit of weight on your shoulders..."

Shiki's body rocked backwards against the delinquent witch and forced her off her back in a moment without notice; her legwork flowed through with continuous combat against the opponent, with a three-part layout in her next combo. One kick to the knee, to clip Ninon out from her own two feet; another to swat against the side of her head, and fully bring her down; the third to swipe up the dirt up until she again made contact with toes to skull. Ninon's whole body went rolling backwards over the floor for a moment as her mind went both straight and squiggly, but she shook it off in the next few seconds after.

From one moment to the next, Ninon felt the fight bounce out of her favor again; the focus came off the blood spat on her and onto the drips of red now coming from _two_ lacerations upon her face, the second of which originated beneath the hairline where she was punted. "Not bad..." she admitted.

"You're nothing," remarked Shiki. "Nothing but a tiny being."

Ninon's lips contorted into yet another of her creepy, untrustworthy smirks. "You really think I give a damn?"

Before Shiki could get a long enough glance on Ninon's grin, the witch reached upwards with an open palm, and without any extra gestures, a blast of fire erupted out towards Shiki. The brief flame caught some of her face only partial, blocked with the handle of one of her blades as she hurdled over the defense.

Shiki took a short hop when Ninon tried to poke backwards with a low-sliding kick, landing back on the ground with one foot stomping down against the little witch's more-outstretched ankle. Despite the pressure plopped down on the leg, Ninon was able to force herself onto the half of her footing left unpressured, tiny brief hops evolving once she had her placement _just_ right. Twisting back around, Ninon flung her free leg out across Shiki's head, clashing with a crushing kick before dropping back to the ground to handle the persisting ache riding down her ankle.

Thankfully for the magic-bearer, she bypassed the frustration of having to walk off the pressure pain on her leg by blowing herself forwards into a stance with a casual spurt of wind, immediately returning into the action with a spinning maneuver that carried that leftover wind in a curve around her weaponry and flung it straight ahead.

Shiki fought against the gusts by stabbing a blade into the ground and flinging herself forward with a dropkick crashing into Ninon's chest – Ninon was floored for only a couple seconds before again jumping back into the fray with a cartwheel kick that only missed Shiki by a narrow margin as she weaved backwards.

Ninon tried for another cartwheel flip, alternating with a dismounting slash with her accursed weaponry, but she was always _just_ out of range as Shiki continued to drag herself out of the wake of danger. The blue-clad vixen swooped back in from Ninon's left and swept out the blade down at center on the battlefield ground, then spun back around to swing a roundhouse kick into the unscratched side of Ninon's face. Before the momentum completed its efforts in knocking Ninon's upper body nearly 90 degrees towards the right, she was compressed at the neck by the latching legs of Shiki, before being whipped straight back onto her face against the marble ground below.

The swords dropped down at a scissoring cross on the opposing sides, inches off from the shoulders of Ninon, as Shiki committed to her legwork and commission to gravity the rest of the way through. She didn't have a lot in the way of deviancy from motive in her thoughts – but to combat with the youth, she was a little more willing to spare Ninon the cuts that otherwise would push her some steps closer to surrender. That possibility of surrender, however, was a lot harder to tell from the delinquent witch...

The cut off on the right of Ninon's face stretched open a slight as she scoffed at the blades looming aside. "Do you expect me to try and snail my way out of Hell? As though I'd be scared to bleed even more than I already am?"

"Do you wish for an ultimatum?"

"I'd rather not..." With a grasp with two hands, Ninon clutched onto the twin katanas and let her magic run wild on them with a fury of dark electricity coursing out.

Even the handles of Shiki's blades managed to catch a bit of the voltage struggling through the steel, but she tolerated enough of the pain to keep a tight hold for a few moments, planning her next move.

Ninon was not through yet with her efforts; pushing her weight forward with the balance of the swords grazing across the ground, she _somehow_ managed to roll herself over while taking Shiki along for the ride. The two continued to roll about over each other in a strugglehold over the weapons, even as the positions swirled into the opposite of how it initially was, with Ninon now behind Shiki, clinging onto one of her adversary's arms until she decided it was enough and started elbowing against the witch's favor.

Ultimately, it came to an impasse between Ninon and her opponent, standing back-to-back against each other; meanwhile, the wind between Shiki's fingers, in just one of her hands, felt more open than she realized. From that, she could recognize she was one sword short of what her arsenal carried – and it was in the hands of Ninon, outstretched backwards and laying itself short of touching Shiki's gut. On the other end, Shiki held onto her remaining sword with a tighter, slightly more paranoid grasp, returning the favor by poking Ninon in the side without pushing far enough to break clothing or skin.

The pale witch of the Bearts stayed calm, even in the potential of blood spilled further. Fortunately, her mind was far too deep towards the more deviant side of things to get hung up on those worries.

"How about I offer _you_ an ultimatum – unless of course, you're willing to have blood drawn at the blade of your own belongings?"

Shiki's legs struggled to bend down at Ninon's level, knees bent at an angle for longer than she would ever need. Being dragged down peg by peg, by the young witch she was intertwined with, only reminded her further of the future she could be blessed with... if it wasn't for her less-than-impressive success rate with finding the mate necessary. All this thought nearly took a toll on the handling of the one sword remaining of the pair that she kept out of that little witch's hands.

As for Ninon, she had no such maternal crisis, so she was a lot more free to the idea of harming the opponent, being forever willing to force the other into submission. You wouldn't expect a lot from a relative youngster like her – especially one related to a much pluckier, if more obnoxious, individual – but one could imagine all the dark clothing, pale complexion and seeming inability to be happy in a way that isn't in a sinister under-meaning.

However, there was one factor that was successfully preventing the bloodshed to escalate: Elisabeth's cold, focused stare over the battle...

* * *

 _Meanwhile..._

The stamina-drained Momoko, being carried her way onto a comfortable bed, was the first trip to the infirmary for someone this morning, and an obvious guarantee not to be the last, considering the track record...

"Pardon me if I haven't yet grasped what Momoko could handle..."

"Miss Kagura, don't worry about it; she's still learning."

While Chizuru had stealthily handled the first of the free-for-all eliminations the whole way to the needed room for recovery, she had come across Athena and Kaoru, who chose not to risk trying to step past what would be an ongoing fight to tend to their friend directly.

"Poor Momo'..." Kaoru sighed.

Athena admitted to a shrug... "That's the risk you take in a fight; sometimes you're the reason for your own loss..."

"I can't consider myself a fighter – I think it's worse when you have trouble understanding this 'fighting spirit'."

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Chizuru assured the more fight-inexperienced of the Psycho Soldier girls. "...I _hope_ so, at least."

…

On the second layer of things, Iroha had a moment to survey everything else on the young capo-dancer outside of the obvious stamina troubles... Nothing but a few notable scratches and the occasional bruise spot. Shiki may have gone off a little easy on Momoko, for the sake of the former's almost fetishistic methods to her motives.

"She hasn't received too much in the way of _physical_ injuries," the shamelessly-clad maid detailed. "At best, she just needs rest, and maybe a few bandages where necessary. Apologies if I can't help too much with her immediately; I've got plenty on my shoulders already..." Potentially so much on her shoulders, from what she could see of the patients within the room, that she could collapse under the pressure.

"Don't get too worked up... just your help does a lot for these ladies. Otherwise, if some of the worst comes to pass in the tournament, it'd probably be a little bit more difficult."

"Miss Kagura..." Instead of feeling flattered, Iroha felt just that slight addition to pressure. "I don't know if that's supposed to make me feel better, knowing it's almost entirely up to _me_..."

"I'm trying while I can – before I outstay my welcome, at least. I'm not supposed to be here for long anyway..."

…

After being assured of Momoko's newfound comfort, Athena had a little time to spend between now and whenever her number was coming up in the tournament, to take a look around the infirmary at the other patients. Good to know that most seemed to be settling well by now with their surroundings, ready to take on the day despite not being in the tournament anymore.

And then there was Mignon – the rival the Psycho Soldier wished she never got – with a ten-thousand yard stare up at the nearest television, hugging a pillow in silent fear as though it was her sister, who was in the middle of combat right now...

Yesterday was... _quite_ the day for her, and between her fight and what happened to her in the events after, it was something Athena wouldn't wish upon anyone outside of her absolute most loathed. No, the pink-haired witch was not one of them, just a simple annoyance.

"Uhh... Mignon?" Athena surveyed the frozen stiff and scared witch. "Are you okay?"

"Maybe she's dead," interjected an ever-snarky Nagase, on the bed beside Athena's other side. "I know I'm not the only one hoping..."

"Shut up..." the Psycho Soldier grumbled back, returning her focus to Mignon as quickly as she could.

"...Athena...?" It was then that Mignon finally spoke up, very quiet and uncertain with her tone.

Athena was, with little choice, all ears. "...Yes?"

"Could you do me a favor?"

Athena almost didn't want to ask, because knowing the young Beart, it was going to be an awful favor to take up. "...What?"

" _Don't chase me._ "

And she immediately sprung herself forwards off the bed, off to speed away as it became clear what she was doing – her sisterly instincts were tried and true, and weren't going to let it slide, even if it risked the tournament's proceedings.

Not without a couple road bumps, clearly...

"Aah!" Iroha crumpled against the crossfire, collapsing from beneath her bad ankle as a result of Mignon's ignorant mad-dash.

"Oh crap~!" Athena was sparked with surprise at the maid's collapse, sliding down onto her knees to get up to her.

"Athena, you need to catch Mignon," advised Chizuru, knowing her leave would have to wait just a little longer as she quickly tended to Iroha. "I imagine it's more of your personal business to deal with her."

Athena knew she had little choice, even in regarding the recent protection of Momoko. Things may turn out a lot worse if Mignon was left uncontested in her attempted rescue. "I'd be damned if I don't." She turned aside, "Kaoru, watch over Momo for me..."

"A-Athena?!" The nerdy girl was highly hesitant to be left outside of the Psycho Soldier's guidance, and on top of that, it was already late for her to object.

Athena was already on her way out; she got back up, carefully walking past the crash-and-burn and running out of the infirmary.

Though she almost didn't get a clear grasp of which direction the runaway witch sped off at, her second-sight perception was capable of more exact directions than a map-app on a smartphone.

She was not going to let things get too far out of hand because of one dumb pinkette...

* * *

That one lingering thought in the battleplan during this odd back-to-back blade-drawing standoff was the idea of teleporting out of danger – both ladies were capable of such powers, but neither went ahead on the idea.

Ninon considered it an easy way out, and clearly wouldn't let the situation break off like that unless it meant her opponent was put into a disadvantage. Teleporting out of the clutches would mean she could get an opening, but she may leave _herself_ open as well, in the case that the dark-haired foe's instincts kick in faster. On the other hand, Shiki's power was an odd mistress, as the sinister strength beyond the dark blue ink across her body hadn't considered what would happen if she were to wrap while in the clutches of another. Her weapons handled fine with the magic, but the body of another? To her, it was almost unheard of...

Shiki's legs were not any more well-adjusted to the collective bent angle of her knees as they were in the first few moments.

The backwards cling clutched tighter between the two, the blades pressing against either respective body just a little bit more while Ninon began to shift herself over on top of Shiki's back. Some could detail that she may have shifted a little too far over, once she was starting to drape over one of Shiki's shoulders, allowing the blue-clad assassin to find a new spot opening up upon the witch. She eventually committed to a full combat roll forward, risking her unheld blade grazing against her body as she crushed down Ninon's body between herself and the hard ground, hooking around on the witch's sword-bearing arm and grappling it with the might she could muster up.

Ninon seemed ready to draw blood with the blade if Shiki was to make one false move towards the direction of the grazing steel. She could already tell that there was a scratch or two forming around the stomach area of the blue and black fabric, but on the other hand, she faced the bending, potentially breaking efforts being pressured straight on her blade-wielding arm. She saw her rightful blade sitting just near the battle where it was dropped, right before the back-to-back ( _or quite literally blade-to-stomach-to-blade-to-stomach_ ) deadlock, and she was soon enough crawling towards it at a trudging, slow pace due to the weight pressing down on her limbs and body.

It quickly set in just as hard as the pressure on the wrong end of the arm-lock – knowing how tightly wrapped around the arm Shiki was, Ninon came to realize that the hard way was not the optimal way... she decided to do away with the effort, and said 'to hell with it' at the end of it all.

With a desperate warp out of the hold, Ninon took the easy way out – she needed to, to get her weapon back and to attempt to pursue Shiki one last time with it.

But then suddenly, without even a grasp of a transition between moments in the battle, things took a turn again.

 _ **SHLRRRK—!**_

There was a gruesome noise, a new slow downpour of blood, and Ninon's advance completely stopped before it could ever begin.

She lost grasp of her accursed blade once the feeling in her fingers numbed slightly; she felt an uneasy piercing sensation fly through the side of her body, from a corner of her chest and upwards through the shoulder, and it was this unwelcome, piercing pain that finally started to crack the scratched poker face of stoicism that she worked up so much effort maintaining in this match.

The agony came not from the opponent's blades, but from... _chains_? Chains protruding from the opposition's dark aura seeping within the floor, in fact...

"I didn't want to have to do that to you..."

Shiki's body dragged onwards with a reluctant limp, and an ever-present shiver in her voice. "Not to anyone... as precious... as you."

It almost looked as though the power used upon her opponent left a bit of a toll upon herself as well – the veins around her left leg and back, where the tattoo was most prominent, looked a little more visible; darkened, even...

Meanwhile, as her eyes having not left the battle this whole time, Elisabeth was just as much rattled by the invisible shockwave of dark energy as the ladies – she held her riding crop tightly, feeling little choice but to prepare in case she'd need to step in; enough blood was starting to spill already, to the point where she felt her advice wasn't quite keeping its hold in Shiki's mind.

Ninon grunted as the dark, rusty chains ached within her wounds, with every little movement made. "Just tell me what you _really_ feel, and get it over with. I can only bleed for so long..."

Without a second or even _third_ thought, Shiki clung onto the young witch's body with an utter lack of shame presenting any potential affection, not bothering to let go even as she felt the leaking redness of her opponent drip down slowly upon her jet-black hair and cold, barely emotive face.

"Don't be afraid to bleed on me... I just want to preserve the future..." Her clingy nature upon the smaller, often younger generation was flourishing yet again. First with Momoko, and now with Ninon – Good lord, was she _that_ desperate?

Once again, it was safe to acknowledge Elisabeth's judging stare over the situation, and that if neither lady in the match were willing to give up at this point, it could potentially become the noblewoman's decision if boundaries were overstepped – hard to say at this point, however, considering previous bouts such as the infamed Angel vs. Yuri affair... however, something threatened to catch her attention...

The sound of something cartoonishly bouncing down the stairs past her. A prop of something seemed to just sneak past her, as she didn't choose first to look at her feet where it was rolling by.

Shiki took notice next. "Hmm?" Something seemed to roll beneath her, stopping very lightly against an ankle. A ball the size of a watermelon.

With a clear fuse fizzling out.

"Oh no," Ninon realized, recognizing the cat pattern beneath the bow of the blatant bomb, _just_ before Shiki silently punted it, straight back and diagonally up to where it bounced down from...

...flying past a still perplexed Elisabeth, who could only look back for a split second...

...before a big smoky _**POOF**_ unleashed right at the top of the central stairwell. It slowly pushed past Elisabeth's position as she shielded herself from the soot and rainbowy mist... she swore she could recall something like this having happened in the previous round...

"What the hell... the hell is going on—"

" _Out of the way!_ "

Elisabeth felt herself getting roughly shoved against one of the railings of the stairs – the shrillness of the voice belonging to the pusher was not exactly unknown anymore... and it was without saying they weren't going to get away from her righteousness for too long.

Shiki was probably the most confused of all, naturally due to her very surreal way of thinking. The spreading smoke didn't help, either, as she had to shield herself. "What is that...?"

Ninon's answer, the clearest of all currently present: "A failed abortion."

This was _right_ before Shiki was suddenly pounced on by a pink blur that was unfortunately all too familiar by this point in the tournament.

It was official, even if the medical attention necessarily remaining proved otherwise – Mignon had come to '''save''' the day!(?)

Who'd think that not even 24 hours after getting stabbed by the dangerous beauty, the obnoxious witch would be pursuing the same lady with very little she felt she could regret, thanks to that risky sisterly nature?

Well, she wouldn't get too far into her rescue before she was shoved off casually by Shiki – just in time to get taken down by the slightly late-to-arrive Athena, who slid down one of the railings and flung herself onto , taking her to the ground with the overpowering force that of one of her idol-tour security guards.

Mignon struggled with all the ferocity of an angry kitten not getting her way, and double the whiny frustration to boot. "Get off me! _Get off me, you bimbo, you don't know what you're doing!_ "

"I know exactly what I'm doing!" It was frustrating for to have to dispute that she was doing the right thing, unlike the annoying pink turd she was dealing with.

Elisabeth was still recovering somewhat from the hard shove she took, that caused her to bump her gut something fierce and nearly floored her – mostly in due part to her simply being unprepared to take a hit like that at a time like this. As she waited for the smoke to fully clear, she started to see a couple more people making their way down the stairs – Chizuru, with a limping Iroha draped against her shoulder.

"What's happening up there?!" Elisabeth asked her cohort, sounding growingly aggravated as the smoke that remained, continued to agitate her eyes.

"It was all on her, really," Chizuru replied, of course referring to Mignon. "Broke out of the infirmary, and really took a number on Iroha without even trying..."

"There's something wrong with her," Iroha added. "I just have a feeling, if we don't deal with her now..."

Suddenly... _**CHOMP!**_

Mignon was completely without subtlety now with her 'spirit animal', as she growled like a mean cat and started biting down on one of Athena's arms as it wrapped around in front of her face.

"OW!" Athena reeled away her arm from around the front of Mignon's face to break free from the biting, and brought it down right in the back of her head with a jabbing elbow to press down on the colorful witch's face against the ground. All the while, she took a look at her forearm and saw some skin already opened up and prepping to bleed where the tooth marks laid.

Chomping straight into skin was generally easy when intentionally meaning to, but it was another beast for it to actually break skin. To do that to an idol who's meant to have spotless skin and a beautiful body – well, it almost deemed itself a deathwish by that point.

The forethought to work things out with some semblance of peace seemed to fade – instead, blind with anger and frustration with settling this stupid incident by more optimal / less ethical means, Athena started to form a Psycho Powered blade within her unscratched arm. It was at this point that she almost stopped trying to salvage Mignon's stupidity, and now it looked almost like attempted murder was about to be done...

...if it wasn't for outside involvement to catch Athena's arm where it stood.

" _That's enough._ "

Elisabeth's voice rattled seriously through Athena's ears, and the Psycho Soldier snapped out of her brief blind rage. "Huh?"

She didn't bother putting up a fight to Betty's further resistance, as she was pulled back and helped even further into the arms of Chizuru, while Elisabeth walked past and tended to Mignon without even saying as much as a single word further...

The pink witch seemed grateful enough not to resist, seeing as it was the woman in charge helping her up. "Oh... thank you, my lad—"

 _ **SMACK!**_

The left side of Mignon's face went red and numb with a harsh pain as she reeled sideways, almost into a full 360 spin – she almost couldn't believe it: did the hostess just _slap_ her!?

Mignon couldn't find words to express how shocked and dismayed she was. "Wha~?! Why—!?"

"I was referring to _both_ of you," Elisabeth responded. You could really tell _so much anger_ was hiding behind the somewhat stoic shell of her neutral expression, and you could also read how much she was growing sick of the unsanctioned bullshit.

She turned her head towards the next matter, voice no less cold than before. "Shiki. _Release her._ "

Without objection, Shiki understood Elisabeth's demand and complied – the veins beneath her tattoo calmed, and the chains draped through Ninon finally let go, allowing the pale witch to finally fall down under the lowering energy caused by the momentary blood loss.

Meanwhile, Mignon was sitting on the stairs at this point, not feeling in the mood anymore to stand as she watched her sister laying, bleeding and seeming far too serene than it should be in a situation like this.

All of a sudden, another sensation started to pull her away – Elisabeth's hand clutching her by the ear, yanking her away from the scene like a mother sick of her bothersome daughter's bullshit.

"N-no! My sister—!" whined Mignon.

"She'll be taken care of when necessary," Elisabeth responded. "As for you – I'll be sure to see to your punishment soon enough..." She turned her attention back to her cohort and the Psycho Soldier. "Chizuru, if you could, please help Athena into this room with me – I'm counting on you to be in charge for a little bit while I take care of these ladies..."

It didn't take much for Athena to comply to where she was needed, however. "It's fine, Chizuru – I'll accept responsibility..." The guilt beneath her momentary frustrations was more than enough for her to go on her own will. She followed Elisabeth, and an unwilling Mignon, into the room at the back end of the stairs, all three disappearing behind the double-doors after they opened and then re-closed.

With the responsibility of running the tournament held on her for these few moments heading into the next round, Chizuru put her attention on the one-woman medical personnel beside her. "Iroha... I hope you don't mind..."

"I'll try..."

"Don't," objected Ninon "It's just flesh wounds. Nothing serious."

"Definitely looks serious to us," Chizuru mentioned otherwise, on account of the witch slowly oozing with blood before everyone. "Besides... you do realize you technically _lost_ due to all of this, right?"

Ninon didn't give a shit, clearly. "Would much rather lose and bleed like this, than to have _her_ help."

So it seemed to settle things, in regards to the match...

 **Winner, by disqualification / possible forfeit?: Shiki**

* * *

 **Don't worry, I'm certain Ninon's learned some sort of healing spell in case of injuries like that – I've at least seen that Mignon had a super in Maximum Impact 2 that healed a bit of her health. Speaking of, well, she's lookin' to be in a whole lot of trouble...**

 **Next Chapter:** From the solution of one controversy to the arrival of another; while Elisabeth takes care of business, the tournament finally gets back into the thick of things with the start of the third round!


	47. ROUND 3 PRELUDE: Reality Check

By now, Shiki had recognized seclusion within this world all too well; her previous night of rest was no exception...

She still had little of a clue what this world was on the outside. All she had, on the inside, were a load of almost entirely strangers, with the only familiar being one that she nearly killed, _willingly_.

She had nothing here. No one to love, no one to care for, and the chains within this room of isolation didn't help one bit.

"Shiki... do you understand what we're trying to do for you?"

Shiki looked up to the lady in front of her. Chizuru seemed like a reasonable woman once she spent time with her ( _not entirely on her own will, obviously_ ), but at the same time, she still found it extremely difficult to trust her due to her own mentality, her own curses – and the cursed ink on her body that wrote emotions for her to follow and not to follow.

The attempts to trust only grew more sidetracked by the little things; for example, Shiki honestly enjoyed the blood that spilled out of Ninon onto her body – she didn't want to even been clean, let alone mended for injuries.

"Shiki, please..." continued Chizuru. "I can't tell sometimes whether you're listening or not."

Shiki shunned her eye contact away from the other end of the conversation. "...Does it matter...?"

Chizuru answered, " _Obviously._ As far as I know, everyone in this world is still human – even those who are sheltered the deepest."

"I'm not sheltered. I'm lost," Shiki admitted. "No one seems to truly care for me... I just want something that can look up to me."

Even as a few tears escaped, she couldn't even find a way around a real expression of sadness. She always simply looked _hollow._

Chizuru softly wiped the tears away from the sad assassin's face. "You'll be fine under us," the responsible priestess assured. "For until we help you get back to where you came, at least..."

Due to circumstances involving the tournament, as well as stuff regarding the only person capable of bringing her back home, Shiki was not yet prepped for a return to her timeline – and probably wouldn't be until her time in the tournament was over with, whenever that may be, between now at the start of round 3, and the eventual finale.

Outside of the tournament proceedings she found herself within with her qualifier 'victory', things couldn't be pinned down on how Shiki could be fulfilled.

Then again, it grew to be less difficult to once Chizuru looked upon the clues heading up to now – what with Shiki's battle against Momoko during that free-for-all... and at the end where she was all too close and personal with Ninon even when she was at her most agonized.

There was no doubt about it – Shiki was simply a _mystery,_ and might always be...

* * *

Meanwhile, there was another, much louder, concern going on elsewhere in the master bedroom of one's late parents, before the hostess of the tourney...

" _What I'm saying is, you had no right shoving yourself into a match, even for 'family's sake' – all you're doing is making yourself look more ridiculous!_ "

" _'Ridiculous'!? You're no better than Mignon in this situation!_ "

Almost ear-bleedingly loud.

Elisabeth was sitting before the intense argument between the 'Psycho Soldier' and the 'Ego-Tripping Witch', and her scornful frown didn't at all improve.

Mignon refused any possibility that she was at fault. "You're more at fault, what with your attempted assault!"

Meanwhile, Athena was still hung up on the obvious wrongdoing her 'rival' did upon her. "Because you bit me!" She gestured to the unattended bite wound on her arm – if she didn't consider that Mignon was as human as anyone else, the Psycho Soldier could almost consider checking for rabies...

"'You attack me, I bite'; Mignon's learned more than enough on self-defense alone!"

"From what?! Were you raised by cats or something?!"

"The cat is Mignon's spirit animal, you dolt! Plenty of strong beings are cats – tigers, cougars, snow leopards—!"

"I have a hard time believing you're in the family of cats you think you're in..."

Mignon approached further, angrily proclaiming, "Are you trying to call heresy upon a witch!?"

Athena backed up, "Goddess's sake, Mignon, could you _please_ just get out of my face?!"

"You get out of _Mignon's_ face!"

"I'm not even trying to—!"

 _ **THWAP!**_

Immediately going silent, Athena and Mignon both flinched at the snapping sound of Elisabeth's riding crop forcing them out of each other's faces.

"I think I've heard enough of you two," Elisabeth groaned, the crop flicked outwards with one hand while she palmed her forehead in frustration with the other.

"So," Mignon spoke up, smiling hopefully towards a good outcome ( _primarily on her end_ ), "now that you've heard both arguments, what's your verdict, my lady?"

"Honestly?" Elisabeth was prepared to be blunt. "Just based on this petty rivalry alone, I'd say there's something _both_ of you are guilty of."

" _Both_ of us—?!" _**THWUMP!**_ Mignon's mouth was suddenly smacked into silence once Athena brought a palm in front of it to cover up further complaints that were ready to come out of the witch's mouth.

"Sshhh! You do not want to get her any angrier than she probably already is..."

"You're quite on point there, Athena – then again..." Elisabeth began to bring out the gripes towards the guilty party, and it started with the purple-haired pop star to the left. "...For a star of your caliber, I'd think you'd be more willing to let minor annoyances slide. Instead you simply gave in to your anger."

"It was a heated moment, ma'am."

"And what did that accomplish?"

"Clearly, nothing." Athena's shoulders drooped in a self-admitted defeat, the guilt again riding high.

Elisabeth settled one wronged gal already – now to deal with the other... "Now, Mignon," she began. "by this point in the tournament, you should've seen what happened last time someone inserted themselves into a battle for the sake of 'rescue'. I only let Alice off because she already dealt with enough with the injuries she's received.

Mignon calmly separated Athena's silencing hand from against her mouth... "Whoever this 'Alice' girl is, she clearly didn't know any better." As it seemed to turn out, Mignon had little to care for who were basically strangers to her in the cast-list of fighters within the tournament. Might've been the lingering salt over still being open to a fault, as she still had half a mind to retain arrogance, it looked like.

And Elisabeth didn't look too impressed already... "Beg your pardon?"

"It's obvious; in a situation like that, Mignon wouldn't simply charge into a fight – that's where the smoke... bomb... _uhhhh~_ "

And before she could get her fill of explanation in, Mignon's confidence melted as soon as she felt the presence of Elisabeth eclipse her. As soon as the noblewoman got out of her seat and allowed herself to trespass Mignon's personal space with a piercing glare of lost patience, there was no verbal victory left for the white-mage witch.

"Mignon… it's in matters like this that you speak to your cohorts, and _especially_ your superior, in a way that respects them. Stop thinking for yourself for just a minute, and maybe I'll listen. Do you understand, Beart?"

" _I told her so..._ " Athena internally snarked, getting a second-hand shade of fear seeing Elisabeth look down upon the other girl in the room.

Meanwhile, Mignon was starting to sweat under the pressure of intimidation creeping down upon her.

"...But—"

Elisabeth's crop-handling only tightened further. " _ **Yes**_ _or_ _ **no**_ , _Mignon._ "

"...I understand." Any more defiance, and Mignon would've risked being reduced to a pants-wettening mess. There was no right way out of it – one bad move and she had to surrender.

With that, Elisabeth then decided her next act of authority.

"I'm going to go, and cure myself of this headache, and _then_ I'll decide your punishment."

Before she fully left to the bathroom off to the side, she turned back one more time. "Ladies, I implore you not to make things worse for yourselves while I'm gone." Then she closed the door behind her...

When Athena finally decided afterwards to turn her head elsewhere, she saw that Mignon had flopped back onto the bed, laying limply with her hands buried against her face.

She may not have cared for the bratty witch, though still Athena knew broken confidence when she saw it – and a shattered spirit seemed to be even worse.

* * *

By now, mere minutes removed from the wildcard four-way bout, things were returning to a calm before the storm...

"You know, I feel kinda bad for Athena and that other girl; they really pissed Elisabeth off... I don't see either of 'em coming out of that situation without any whip marks on their bodies..."

Optimism was starting to rise for most of the ladies of the third round – all except the odd one out in Shiki and likely also Athena if things go the way some were expecting – but particular focus here, went to the slowly growing loyalty and friendship between Aoi and Leona, who were looking beyond the incidents with the Hakkesshu.

At least, it seemed like mostly Aoi was focused towards the road ahead, given her devotion to working up on her strength in the gym room. The punching bag was rolling with the blows laid upon it by the fired-up fighter, and handled well even the singes grazing through it from the flames belching through the knuckles of ...

Things weren't exactly as intense on the other end of things; Leona was seated nearby on one of the weight-training benches, having not picked up a dumbbell for a good little while. Instead she was staring, absolutely _glaring_ straight into the wall she faced against. She knew what she could be facing against if the bracketology willed it – and a second guess was unnecessary when it came to who she was thinking about, away from her better judgment.

"Hey, uh... you alright?" Aoi only took full notice to Leona's inactivity as soon as she had a moment to stop throwing fists at the sandbags. "Haven't seen you lift a single weight since we got in here."

Leona barely lifted her lips. She was too deep into her thoughts to even glance back at the Kusanagi black-sheep.

The raised eyebrow of worry upon Aoi's head wriggled back down. The dread started to kick in within her again... " _Fuck_ , it's about the Hakkesshu chicks, isn't it?" ...though it was less about the doom still looming over from the 2 out of 3 of the bitches remaining, and more about the over-thought being put into it at this point.

"I don't know what you want me to say," Aoi continued, trying to keep the silence from forming awkwardness in this conversation she was trying to keep up. "They're crazy bitches. Probably always have been."

"Shit, if there _is_ a bright point to gather from this, it's that... well... they aren't exactly on the same page right now." Though there were still clear threats in the running in the form of Shermie and Vice, Aoi had grown to have just a slight less to fear after what went down earlier this morning.

When simply words didn't seem to budge the Ikari Warrior before her, however, Aoi was genuinely starting to run out of good ideas in trying to motivate further the blue-hair with a steel box of emotion kept locked in.

With enough room to spare on the bench behind the occupied, Aoi took a seat, a little hesitant to get close to the soldier – what with not just the possibility of Leona's reflexes preventing things from ending too peacefully in this, but also with previous instances of earlier today creating thoughts only worth hiding deep unless it became truly necessary. Reminder that the Kusanagi relative outright stumbled upon Leona topless at the start of the morning...

"We're gonna kick their asses. Just know that..." Aoi was leaning against Leona's back, hoping to provide herself an odd sort of comfort, and to spread the warmth and support.

…

Leona suddenly rose up from her seat, before Aoi's breath even found an unconscious chance to reach the soldier's shoulders. It almost caught the Kusanagi off-guard with how abrupt things passed by her body...

The leading lady of the Ikari knew exactly what she was intending, though. Her motivation steered her in a perfect road, and it started with the punching bag closer to the center of the gym room.

With an arm winding across, she zipped past the punching bag with a vibrant _**slash**_ curving around her in the air...

...and after seconds of dramatic delay, the bottom half of the punching bag split off, immediately drowned afterwards by the spilling sand from the top-half carcass of leather.

"I've dealt with one – I won't let the rest get away with what they do." Leona cracked her knuckles and turned back around. "Everyone else will merely be collateral damage."

Aoi didn't know what to really think of Leona, and she had a feeling that wouldn't change for a while longer. As she grew to know the blue-haired soldier more, she also found herself knowing less In the subject of how much farther she and Leona were going to reach in this tournament, _she was really hoping she wasn't going to be a part of that collateral damage._

The Kusanagi biker soon asked, "If you're so prepared for this kind of stuff, why not just tell me? I swear, something in me keeps thinking you're—"

"Scared?" Leona interrupted. "...No. I stopped being truly scared a long time ago... I merely grew."

The soldier outstretched her arm with a flat-palmed hand, still coursing with that sharp aura as she questioned. "Are _you_ , Kusanagi?"

"Scared, you mean?" Aoi was uneased – with the stoic soldier before her, this wasn't the first time in this week of combat, that she felt this way. "... _Shit_ , I don't know."

"Don't," said Leona.

There wasn't much else she needed to say besides that, as she surveyed the sliced-apart punching bag near her, which had freshly finished pouring sand onto the floor until it was a small hill at her boots. As she picked up a handful from the pile, she looked back up to Aoi. The conversation having dwindled into silence just recently, the biker seemed to be now placed awkwardly in the scenery.

Maybe there was a reason for _one_ more thing to say. "Go on if you're done preparing," Leona suggested to Aoi. "The war continues soon..."

Aoi nodded with partial agreement to the consideration. "Might as well... imagine we don't have a whole lot of time depending on who goes when in this round." Not like she had too much of a choice, what with Leona unintentionally threatening a decrease in the amount of ragged punching bags hanging around the gym room.

She started to approach the opened-up doorway out of the gym room... fingers crossed that the arrangement of the brackets give them the best possible matchups for their motives and poten—

 _ **SLAM!**_

The gym-room door suddenly closed, separating the two growing friends from contact. If there was any shout of alert from Aoi, it wouldn't be heard anymore behind the closed-off doorway.

Leona knew what was up from the moment she heard the echoing slam of the doors, and merely glared with sharpness in her eyes… and the stealthy, well-endowed blonde emerging from behind the wide hiding spot the previously open door allowed, gave no mystery to what closed it shut.

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt something tender?" Lien Neville, scratched and clawed a-plenty by previous rounds, still had more than half a mind for mind-games on her fellow competitors... it was deathly obvious the lack of remorse she _really_ felt for the recently-formed friendship she split away.

On the other end, while she knew exactly the danger the Hakkesshu was, that didn't mean Leona paid no mind to the other threats in the running. Even from the gathering period on Day Zero of the tournament, Leona had found herself crossing paths with some dastardly bitches. Maybe, as it turned out from the confrontation she had from Lien, it was destined to happen sooner or later?

Leona didn't need words at the moment ( _she rarely ever did throughout her KoF career, to be fair_ ) – she was more focused on thinking of all the calculations and strengths behind the shell of the enemy, and what could be done to cause the most disadvantage from the earliest point.

"No response? Hmph..." No matter for Lien – the barely-feeling assassin didn't need input from the other party to still do damage. "Suppose you don't _need_ to say anything. If anything, the silence helps you think, doesn't it?"

Leona still said nothing. Her stare said more than enough to show that she was growing to hate the blonde bitch before her. Maybe not as much hatred for her as it was for the Hakkesshu trio partially still in the running in this tournament, but even with barely minutes shared in one single room in the mansion, it was _definitely_ getting there.

She kept her sight upon Lien, making sure to keep away from the anthill-sized pile of sand so that the assassin didn't take notice herself and pick up on any dirty tactics – she took a quiet but deep breath, holding her anger towards Lien simply within her head as she contemplated. In the long run, whatever she was going to do to the blonde fatale she was tasked with facing this round, was not going to be among the proudest of ideas she's ever had.

Especially if she was pushed any further towards the edge.

Continuing to face the silence of the Ikari Warrior, Lien curved her smirk into an angle akin to the horns of a demon... "I know what you're thinking – I'm not the first lady on your mind. On the other hand... you and me, sharing the same space... you've seen how it's been going down these past couple of days... You _do_ realize what this means, do you?"

Leona did – begrudgingly so...

 _Fwoosh!_ A cloud of beige erupted upwards against Lien's face... Leona had just thrown the sand in her face!

" _FUCK!_ " Before she could recover her sight fully, Lien was overwhelmed with detestation, absolute rage and frustration fueling the irritated tears. If there was anything to gather from her loud expletive, she did _not_ take kindly to having dirty tactics thrown against her – especially before _she_ had the chance herself!

Opting to jump into the action instead of easing herself in, Lien blindly swung a forearm forward – and was easily blocked off by Leona, who threw herself forwards against her breast-superior and backed her up on one of the chin-up bars across the room.

Still fighting to work her sight back into how it should be, Lien retorted furiously – "That make you feel any better, _you orphaned piece of shit?_ "

She stomped a foot down onto one of Leona's, to barely an effect; Leona gritted her teeth beneath her closed mouth of neutral motivation, shoving her arm further against Lien's throat.

Over the corner of Leona's farther-away arm, there was a familiar spark of crackling bronze energy ready to unleash yet again...

Indeed, it was not anything different than what was seen before; what Leona used to deliver two kinds of finishing blows to her last two opponents, she was already starting to unleash within moments of her third bout's beginning.

" _Oh hell no._ " Retorting with a gut kick to try to bump Leona back, Lien then grabbed the soldier by the ear and snapped her arm back, managing to yank out the small earring that Leona happened to be wearing. Just a sharp little pain over Leona's head, but enough to force her concentration elsewhere, to the bit of torn flesh upon her earlobe that was pushed aside by the earring's extraction.

From what Lien had gathered from Leona's fighting past – as she tended to do with many more a veteran fighter under work with the gang she swore under – she didn't want to have to hold onto that piercing for too long. She immediately shoved the earring back against its holder, with a palm flattening over it against the well-built abs of the Ikari Warrior.

With a full circle spin-around, clutching onto Lien's arm, Leona threw her opponent out of the way and made sure the earring was still in her new rival's clutches.

By this point, Lien got too much of the idea, of this hot-potato pass-around; she ultimately had to toss it over her shoulders and out of her sight.

Suddenly, a seismic _**POW!**_ occurred inches behind where Lien stood, causing her to roll sideways away from the blast before it could catch her directly with its ball of flame and eardrum-blistering shockwaves of explosive sound.

As dumbbells, weights and other metallic belongings to the gym scattered a fair distance across the room, Lien sat in relief, the brief sweat from her frustration starting to help in cleaning away the sand that was still on her face. For her, the worst was over for that part alone – after Mignon's crazed attempt to bomb the shit out of her in the previous round, Lien had absolutely enough of getting quite literally blown up in this tournament.

The flames and soot of the resulting explosion beside the competitors in action, backdropped the fittingly burning tension between Lien and Leona, and the gym room was already starting to become a mess thanks to the unfortunate workout props that either caught flames or were simply blown into pieces. The two fighters were slowly gathering their bearings, spending their time staring each other down before considering combat stances.

"Right. No more bullshittin' around, eh?" considered Lien. Reddened around the eyes from the still-lingering irritation of the sand, and an overlaying patch of sweat down her face, she needed quite a bit of will to keep her focus and emotions in check.

She cracked her knuckles beneath the gloves and adjusted her wrist-worn gadget... "I'm going to absolutely _enjoy_ breaking you."

Leona responded, "Believe what you want to believe, if you think that will help you." As the camo-clad soldier adjusted to the heightened temperature of the actively-burning room, she settled her arms into their usual prime positions.

"Time to face reality."

* * *

 **My initial idea, heading into Lien vs. Leona, was to have the first half of the bout here and then split it off into a second part to finish while allowing a little more story to occur afterwards. With how I arranged things here, however, I think does fair justice to the action and anticipation before this fight fully climaxes in the next chapter.**

 **Next Chapter:** A battle between two ladies who were raised to be unfeeling warriors... it lined up all too well the fortunes between Leona and Lien – but who is the stronger of the two?


	48. R3: Leona vs Lien Neville, Part 1

**Yeah, just when I thought it was just gonna be a slow March in terms of writing, there went and had to be a pandemic goin' around. Even though my updates through March – or lack thereof – wouldn't really be much better with or without the COVID biz, I would've figured the creative juices would flow harder considering I've kept myself at home a little harder than usual – doesn't help that Michigan is one of the more affected parts of the states, so I feel like I barely have much of a choice.**

 **Whatever. It's fine. Enjoy what I got.**

* * *

Today, Moe Habana may have overslept a little bit – she only _just_ heard about the backup bout that concluded minutes ago; her first thoughts on the matter were 'Who's Shiki'?

The second, went towards the fellow ladies she's started to hook herself around – but she had barely any success finding any of them. _Something_ must've happened with Athena since she was nowhere to be seen in her room or much of elsewhere.

She had some time to lurk – up until she found one of what she sought, simply by bumping into it.

"Aoi!"

The red-clad biker walled off Moe's advance. "Sorry, Habana; you might wanna stand back a little bit."

"Why? W-where's Leona—"

 _ **BWMTH~!**_

A faint but strong echo of an explosion was not just heard, but also _felt_ ; it was about a minute or so away from behind closed gym-room doors, and there was still a little bit of a shake, a little bit of a shockwave through the room – and through both ladies' bodies.

Habana was a little rattled, simply presuming to the chaos with a face of slight worry that her wondering about Leona was at least partially answered.

On the other hand, Aoi responded to the faint boom... "Taking care of business. Hopefully." She may have known a fair bit about the Ikari Warrior by now, but nowhere near enough to fully know how she was going to deal with her opposition. "Think it's better off we just watch from elsewhere, just to be safe..."

"Aoi..."

" _We'll be fine._ "

Helping Moe in turning her hide the other way and heading back down the other end of the hallway, Aoi was only looking ahead – it was for the best that those not involved in the incoming bout scattered-

-but then, a brief stop as she glanced off to something, something seeming to catch her attention; in her eyes, in her mind, _and_ in her soul. To her, she was caught by a somewhat familiar essence that she was better off not pursuing again, at least for a time dependent on how she was booked within this coming round.

To others, she was kinda staring off into space.

Moe stuttered in confusion, "Uhh... what's wrong?" The strawberry blonde would've thought the two of them would be getting a move on at Aoi's insist, if it wasn't for the Kusanagi's brief lapse in thought.

Aoi's stare faded real quick... "I-it's nothing. Something I could feel... but I don't feel like I'd give a shit now."

She was better off feeling that way; it wasn't exactly like the other end of things was giving a shit in return about the cursed Kusanagi, either...

* * *

Shermie didn't have an amazing morning at all. Between the separation from her Crimson boy-toy who in her eyes had pretty much gone missing, and, as far as we know, a bit of verbal ( _but hopefully not too physical_ ) hazing from her more 'sophisticated' associates – rightfully in air-quotes simply because of how sophistication is considered alongside Vice and Mature's partially hidden cruelty – it was a lot less of a positive road for her as she made her way closer to the third round of the tournament.

" _Mmnnn, hold me tighter~_ "

All she could settle with as the next best thing behind Ash was a reconnection with one of a few previous flings throughout her time in the mansion.

Unfortunately, Angel was too busy training up herself for the next fight – _and also kind of the reason things have started to turn sour between Shermie and her fellow Hakkesshu_ – but on the bright side, one of Shermie's former opponents would suffice for the moment...

" _Oh my~ you're as thirsty as ever..._ "

Luong was quite welcome in return – all the quote-unquote 'CPR' and the 'reaming-and-creaming' she had received ever since she had first contact with the beauty in pink, had definitely warmed her up to Shermie's touch.

Such a display of sporadic loving that, elsewhere, a certain red-clad Kusanagi had to pause to recognize...

Shermie only had so much time to spare her mouth from the spit-swapping and give her thoughts. "You're no Ash, but... _merde_ , if he had curves like yours and mine, I'd hold onto him even tighter..." Her hands barely left the Taekwondo beauty's hips and thighs as she clung on for as much as she wanted out of this reignited flame.

The vacant hole left in her heart wasn't quite full yet, but what was being helped into the hole right now was almost satisfying enough...

"Appreciate the compliments, sweetie," a warmed Luong responded, leaning herself even further on her fellow dame. "Don't let all those thoughts get too deep in your head, though – I've heard it's been rubbing your friends the wrong way..."

"Ohh... hmhmhm..." Shermie let out a half-muzzled giggle towards Luong's advice. One word in there hung longer on her mind more than the rest. "I wouldn't say 'friends'..."

Partnership-wise, if anything, Yashiro and Chris could be considered her friends. Not so much with Mature and Vice, or even any of the other Orochi associates. In fact, this was one of the first few times she was ever set on working towards something with the murderous vixens – and it wasn't exactly going off on the best of terms.

Luong chuckled back, moving her hand lower and lower against the blind-banged redhead's body. "Pardon me; a little too forward, I suppose?"

"In some ways, yes. In others..." Shermie hissed welcomingly to the Taekwondo vixen's advancing touch, rubbing down on her strong thighs. "Mmmm... you can push on me like _that_ all you want."

"You don't even need to ask..." Once again, Luong met lips with her temporary lover, continuing to provide the warmth that one would need at times like this.

All the while, Shermie's mind shared this loving embrace alongside the more important matters: the third round of this admittedly ( _in her opinion_ ) commonplace tournament was only getting started beyond where she stood, but already she had plenty to think about.

About herself, and what she was willing to deal with in these trying times.

About her 'friends'. To reiterate, Mature and Vice were far from a great connection to CYS...

About Ash, the green light to her loving flame, and how she will inevitably find her way back into his arms, _among other things,_ _ **wink-wink**_ _._

About a certain few others as well, but that was known without asking...

Her mind was booked solid with thoughts to reflect upon before and after she mows down one of what would be three unlucky ladies by this point; overall, she knew, and she knew _a lot more_ than most others would...

…Eventually, life finds anyone and everyone an eventual opportunity to bite back...

* * *

 **THIRD ROUND – MATCH #1  
** **Leona vs. Lien Neville**

 _ **FIGHT!**_

The battle kicked off with intensity, as you'd expect out of the messy and explosive build up – _both on pretty much literal circumstances_ – that it was given:

Leona dove straight into Lien's close space with a ferocious tackle that cracked shoulders against ribs, prepping to push the blonde with figurative blood on her hands closer to the vicious flames burning on the other end of the gym room. However, she was only able to push so far before meeting resistance.

Lien locked her heels down on the ground where they stood, holding Leona down with a front necklock as she held out like an iron wall against the arms of the Ikari Warrior wrapped around her hips. She eventually tried to shove Leona away, planning for a big boot to give distance, but she had to change plans quickly when she felt her catsuit stretch slightly against the opponent's retaining grip.

Leona reeled herself straight back into uncomfortable close quarters, headbutting Lien beneath the chest as she continued to push onwards. Still very little budge to the struggle – the soldier eventually met, to her dismay, a retreat from such an offense, as she let her arms free, unfortunately letting herself get leveled with a kick to the gut from Lien.

The Ikari Warrior briefly dropped to her knees before making a quick recover, palm flat and fingers pointing like little knives as she rushed back in for a third time... this time slicing into the fray with one of her razor-sharp aura-slices!

The vibrant slash of light blue hit Lien at a close enough contact that it tore a decent hole in the stomach area of her leather, only managing to scratch at surface level of the skin left visible behind the cut.

Lien was very familiar to the feeling of just nearly getting slashed like a common weakling – and she wasn't going to take too kindly from the looks of her sudden grip on the hand responsible for such a lashing on her body, swiping with a sideways roundhouse around the back of Leona to knock her off her feet while she still held onto the hand.

"Think that's as much as you're going to get, opening me up like that." Lien's grin grew sadistic as she toyed with the fingers she handled on her rival, gripping with the ring and pinky fingers in one hand stretching one direction, and the middle and index stretching in the exact opposite way, in the other hand.

Leona tanked the uncomfortable pulling sensation splitting away feelings at her hand, her other hand shaking in a pain-facing fist for moments before she finally threw it outwards...

With a _smack_ across her face, Lien's jaw was rattled by the swooping fist, blood flying out in place of saliva as she felt at least one tooth loosen from the receipt. She immediately let go to check her mouth for a moment – maybe a moment too long once she charged back in...

...and was tackled straight to the ground by Leona, spine splatting against the hard pavement of the room. Lien was not being given any leeway in the necklock she was attached against her opponent in, Leona wrenching hard and keeping the Brit grounded while connecting with further damage – kneeing Lien several times over in the back of the head, handing no forgiveness and pulling no blows, and why should she? If Lien wanted a war, she was going to get one she was bound to regret sooner or later.

Problem is, was Lien ever going to feel regret, for _anything_ in the battle? She must've slept quite well after giving Mignon an L in the previous round – noted, partly helped by the inner conflict that shrill witch had with her sister – and there was probably even less of a fuck for her to give if accounting further back with the first round against King.

The momentum of the low-ground struggle slowly turned over to Lien's favor after a little while longer, with the catch of a leg as Leona tried to swing it in for one more knee. Lien pulled the leg of her opponent past and away from its kneecap-intended target. The Brit's core strength was being tested against the pushing force of Leona's toned legs as they tried to fight back against its opposing force – Lien eventually rolled over on top before climbing herself off from her front, onto her knees, and then eventually onto her feet while she wrenched on the crossing legs of the soldier…

...before being brought straight back down with one overlook too many – Leona shifted her strength back in the other direction and took back control. The end result of the momentum shifting back and then forth, was Lien being driven into the ground face-first with the struggle-fighting strength of her blue-haired opposition – and it had drawn blood as a result. Out of one flaring nostril, and onto the ground, a withdrawal of red as Lien recognized the subtle change on the feeling in her nose. Almost numb, but the rest of the sensation seemed like a dulling pain rising, and a bothersome smell of iron.

When it came to being beaten in the race of truly 'drawing first blood' ( _at least more than a trickle from a shot hitting in just the right spot_ ), Lien deeply considered respect – but a lot of other things came before; namely, frustration and a need for retaliation. Unfortunately, the retaliation would need to wait for Lien as she figured out her defense... For now, Leona had the fight in favor, intertwining Lien's legs over each other and pulling upwards at an angle to stretch her out. She was _more_ than willing to show the newfound rival just what she'd be dealing with in this bout – that she was going to have to step far beyond the levels of her previous two opponents.

Of course, that went both ways by this point – even with the leverage and the motive to bend until she broke her in half, Leona had a noticeable struggle with keeping Lien in place as she continued to wriggle through the strain. Eventually, the wear-down found itself turned sideways as Lien was halfway back over in the ever-evolving phases of her eventual escape.

Leona's attempt to answer was to try and bend herself over on top of the femme fatale laying chest-down, trying to evolve the leglock into something more of a stepover-facelock – that was a no-go the moment she was smacked back with a skull-clocking hit!

"Bugger _off!_ " With a _thumping_ headbutt, Lien denied her opponent's attempt to go further beyond with her submission; Leona staggered back into a tall stance, legs still hooked around the opponent's even when she was briefly rendered groggy. She couldn't act quick enough to prevent Lien's final escape from the hold, and the kick afterwards that pushed on her, closer towards what remained of the room's stock of gym equipment.

Thankfully, she stopped herself short of smacking her head on one of the metal bars on a pulley-powered weight machine, and she carefully maneuvered around it, hanging onto her patience over her opponent's eventual recovery.

"Might as well forget submissions at this point," suggested Lien, working out the rough kinks rendered in her legs off the eternity-long contest of holds. "We know neither one of us is going to give up that way..."

The leather of Leona's gloves stretched within her clenched fists. "Would you rather I beat the life out of you?"

Lien scoffed. "You know they're not going to let that happen."

With that, the two hardened fighters went back into action, at a quicker pace with their as it became increasingly relied on their armwork and how well they could put it to use against each other. It started with a trade of attempted fists-to-faces, consistently blocked off by the forearm of the defender – Lien threw a punch, Leona blocked it off; Leona threw a punch, Lien completely denied it – until the blonde struck the azure in the gut with a knee too low from Leona's direct sight to catch before impact. Lien drove Leona further down onto that knee afterwards, ribs being targeted with too much of a consistence for the soldier to handle for too long.

Dragging the Ikari Warrior back up on her two feet, Lien followed in with an elbow to the right of Leona's face and a punch to the opposite side against the left of Leona's chest ( _around armpit-level_ ), but she was blocked away in the third strike of the combo with a lucky reach on Leona's behalf. Lien simply retaliated with a rough shove, causing Leona to again land against the nearby exercise machine, and charged forth.

In the small window of opportunity, Leona settled herself lower, into a crouch – and Lien responded swiftly by stepping over the Ikari Warrior's back and climbing higher up the exercise machine up until committing to a backflip. She continued her momentum after that, before being quickly halted in her tracked with a tackle.

One swift, power-charged chop to the back of Leona's head stopped her attempt to halt momentum before she even got the plan off the ground – planting it straight down upon the back of the soldier's skull, almost as hard an impact as Leona's face against the pavement. Planting nose-first with a force that would definitely shatter that nose for anyone with less durability than Leona had after years of hardened military training, and threatening to loosen at least one tooth when the mouth and front of jaw clocked against the floor next, the momentum shift was showing its ferocity already.

Barely conscious, Leona was able to bring her head up from her face-down position on the floor, as she felt at her face with a gloved hand and could barely make out the dark red streaming across the palm of the black leather. It was, without her choice, her turn to start drawing blood, and now both ladies were primed to paint the room red if necessary.

"Get up." With a beckoning budge with the tip of her foot, Lien pushed Leona's face up even further to look upon the person that was flooring her. The rest of Leona's body eventually climbed her back to her feet automatically, regardless of her current gauge of stamina.

Lien recognized the little bits of red greeting the tip of her left boot, "Look at that~ looks like no one's coming out of this clean anymore..."

"I'd say 'a nose for a nose', but..." Lien chuckled as she looked down on the syrup-slow drips of blood falling off of the inflicted parts of Leona's face. "I'd happily make you bleed out of plenty more places – and make more holes if I have to."

 _THUMP!_ Lien drove a knee into the gut of Leona, pushing forth on her next target on the opponent's body. The leather was grinding roughly against Leona's abs, and in a matter of moments, old wounds were starting to reopen... The bottom end of the scar left from way back in Leona's first-round bout with Mature started to regain that rashy red color from when it was still somewhat fresh between rounds.

Through gritted teeth, Leona continued to express through unfiltered thoughts... "You get off on this pain, don't you?"

Lien chuckled. "Oh please. I was _raised_ to endure it."

Leona was lifted and dropped immediately after, gut first onto another of the benches untouched by the explosion not so long before. She was left keeled over the bench, perpendicular to where it pointed, as Lien took her time walking by – taking a brief moment to continue provoking the Ikari Warrior with a lazy boot to the side of the head, just to make sure she wasn't in the position to think straight quite just yet...

It was the props off to the unburnt end of the room, that Lien had her sights on – she proved to have a strong enough lift to grab one of those long, sturdy barbells and carefully carry it close to her chest as she reapproached. That weight looked ready to come crashing back down, and Lien preferred it to do so upon the back of the neck of her rival...

The blonde femme fatale lifted the barbell up even further so that she could throw it down harder…

...but Leona caught the gym prop before the drop, flinging her body back upwards with a top-head strike upside Lien's jaw!

As she shared handling the central bar of the dumbbell with Lien, Leona lifted herself back up in a way that she positioned herself onto her knees on the work-out bench, her face up close with Lien's as she leaned in even further...

...and started to try and bite into the blonde! However, rather than catching any skin on her teeth, Leona only managed to grab the bandage on Lien's neck, and she absolutely succeeded if her intention was to rip it off.

Lien immediately retorted, as she roughly pushed Leona back, forcing her to take the barbell with her; the end result was that the soldier wound up tripping over the bench, being slammed down under the dead-weight of the barbell falling over her scar-irritated gut. Leona found herself laying on her front yet again, having rolled over from beneath the barbell after gravity had its way with her in the moment before.

Lien growled with further frustration. "Can I go _one_ fight the rest of this tournament, without someone trying to bite me?!" She was sensing a theme with her fights since her preliminary bout, and she would rather buck the trend. She approached without caution towards what may have been to come...

Meanwhile, as she started to get back up to her knees behind the other end of the bench, Leona stared down at the barbell with a plan forming. At this point, she didn't mind needing to use whatever wasn't bolted down now, to get Lien out of her face as much as possible.

She decided to just simply spring back up to her feet with the strength she still carried being used to provide momentum to the barbell she grabbed – it went up for a split moment as Leona let go of it

…and Lien caught and reclaimed the barbell, thinking as though Leona had a stroke of stupidity letting that thing fall into enemy hands. It was until she felt the incoming slash out of Leona's palm only come so close without even touching the skin-tight leather that Lien started to get the gist of what Leona was trying to do, as she saw the barbell suddenly shift weight – as it was cleanly sliced in half down the middle!

Before she could properly adjust to dual-wielding the barbell halves, Lien was pursued dead-on by thrusting elbow strikes clocking her in the head, as Leona kept her occupied enough to not quite yet try to use the broken barbell for whatever needs necessary.

Lien lifted the right half of the barbell with an attempt at an overhead strike – but Leona caught it and wrenched the arm around, twisting Lien's limb with a consistent annoyance for the Brit to deal with.

The intention, as it quickly became clear, was to force Lien to let go of the barbell piece – resulting in it dropping right on her foot! With one targeted drop, she could be joining the collective pain of everyone who had dropped gym equipment on themselves in the past and will do so in the future.

Given her hardened status ( _one that could compete with Leona's_ ), though, Lien hid away her pain under a growl beneath her tongue, bracing for long enough to keep her mind more on the lady continuing to twist the arms about with intent to hold down this well-endowed assassin.

Still held in Lien's other hand, the remaining chunk of the barbell came swinging up against Leona's face, the metal pole-end jabbing her in the eye – all that budged, however, was her head swinging back briefly as she tried to shrug off. Again, it slammed directly into her eye, so the resulting stinger there wasn't going to just go away quickly – unless the adrenaline of competition willed her with enough fighting spirit.

Leona's head swung back in the other direction to collide with the back of Lien's, throttling the Brit forward while Leona pulled the rest of her body backwards – with a lift-over, Lien was dropped on her shoulders onto a nearby bench behind the action, and smacked back up onto her feet after the rollover, with a seismic punt up her face, courtesy of Leona.

As soon as Leona grappled her with a close clinch, Lien shoved her off and tried to swing herself in on her own terms with a spinning elbow...

 _Shling!_ Lien was interrupted by a familiar sound soaring past her ears, as Leona vanished from out of Lien's sight. Another sharp sound indicated Leona's slicing offense, this time zipping past Lien – and now the left side of the blonde's leather suit received a new opening around hip-level.

Lien barely acknowledged it as she continued to try and catch up with Leona's increasing speeds, zipping in circles around her. With each punch Lien threw, however, she simply could not catch the adoptive daughter of Heidern with any of those knuckle-busting strikes, and as a receipt, it was another notch on her costume, in the form of another blue slice through it.

How she continued to prioritize trying to throw punches at the moving target, over her own safety, was anyone's guess – other than the possibility that there truly was starting to be a vendetta built through just this fight, and how much further the rivals were capable of heavy blows before it all systematically fell apart.

Slice, slice, slice~! Leona continued to encircle with continuous blue slashes of her sharp might, outrunning the speed of Lien's flying strikes – until she put in the conclusion to her spiraling session of slices with one more deep strike into the front of Lien.

"You soldiers just don't stand still, do you?!" Lien grunted. Her left hand seemed a little too close by her right wrist around this point. "At least give me a chance to make you cry...!"

"Just give up if you value your life," demanded Leona. "You can't even consider catching up now..."

"You... are an absolute... _dumbass..._ if you think I value my life over this petty tournament!" On the apex of Lien's retort, she ejected her left hand from her other wrist and slammed it down on her rival's back.

Something thrusted _straight_ into Leona's back, causing her push-to-shove against her opponent to completely stop as she simply just pushed Lien away. She staggered away, completely breaking away her offense – and the opponent seemed to be letting her off in return, for the moment.

Her top was sliced down the back-end – as was some of her bleeding skin beneath it, as she felt behind and recognized the handle of a knife, the blade halfway into her back.

"I'm never without my tricks, soldier," Lien bragged, watching as Leona's steps slowed to a stumble, trying to examine the literal knife in her back. "What else were you expecting from me?"

Leona stared up with pained intensity, an approach staggering off from her usual course of stoicism, emotion-wise. "Don't get cocky..."

"I'm rarely not," said Lien. "You haven't even seen my worst yet..."

All the while, she found herself grasping at her gear – or what was left of it beyond the fabric lacerations. "...ugh, _fuck_... My gear's barely holding up anymore..."

She gave up on keeping up with the clothing damage building up, and she simply started tearing off the upper half of her leather. As one could easily acknowledge just from looking at her on an average day, she didn't have a bra on – so she was now pretty much half-naked. Outside of the few cuts and bruises she had received through the match so far, and the healing wounds from past bouts, Lien certainly had a welcoming body to look at.

"You might as well suck up your dignity, too, Leona," Lien suggested. "That top won't be able to hold up now, will it?"

Leona was definitely in a bit more of a different league when it came to facing off with Lien Neville. A slight couple of notches above her usual expectations in pain endured... but a bout like this was none like Leona would've gone through in the tournaments. There was more regulations then. This was just _pain_. And it was probably going to get worse from here.

As soon as the knife was ejected from her back, Leona gave in to the slow bloodfall from the deep cut – and her tanktop ultimately gave up holding itself together, falling to the ground. It wasn't any day where she had to bare her chest under brutal circumstances – even less days to have to share this half-nakedness with her opponent, one she built up a feeling to hate _so goddamn much_.

Lien giggled in fascination – even she couldn't help but acknowledge that Leona shared quite the good build to eventually expose. "See? Was that so hard, Leona?"

Leona slowly shook her head. "I was right... you _are_ getting off on this. Disgusting."

It took a brief second for Lien to notice that Leona was trying all she could not to directly acknowledge the hardened nipples of the blonde assassin.

"I see," Lien acknowledged. "Hard to find subtlety in these times, eh? We'll have time to contemplate each other's bodies later if you want. _If_ we both make it out of this without permanent damage, of course..."

Leona adjusted her gloves... "I'd rather just break you."

Lien grinned sinisterly. "Good luck with that..."

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** **Blood and clothes have been lost – but only one of these fierce ladies are going to falter in the climactic outcome of this Round 3 opener!**


	49. R3: Leona vs Lien Neville, Part 2

**So, uh, a fair warning for the rest of the Leona/Lien fight in this chapter. It goes _places._**

* * *

The flames around the room didn't fade too much over time – it was still burning bright, and fit well as a symbol of how heated the battle between Lien Neville and Leona got. We'd yet to see either of them break bones, but they were not without their battle scars received on not just their bodies, but their clothing as well – to the point where both were now baring more than they'd both imagine.

The action started to pick up its pace again the moment Leona threw the knife that was buried in her back just a minute before – and Lien caught it, internally thankful for the return to sender; just in case she needed to use it again, depending on how much further she may go in this tournament...

Instead of pocketing the knife, Lien found herself having to just handle it for now, since her wrist gauntlet fell away with the rest of her upper-body gear in the brief stripping. She kept a snail's pace with her approach...

Leona approached just as slowly, keeping her eyes on the knife that penetrated her skin once before – knowing that it could happen again at any moment...

Both ends of the fight encircled into a decreasing space, at an identical pace to the fading burns of the flames.

Lien was already testing the waters with that bloody knife, back-handling it as she kept her right elbow curved and let the toothy, hungry end of the blade face forward – however, the most she was getting to contact with her opponent was the struggling grapple Leona pursued with.

The heat of the nearby flames were already threatening to get the ladies drenched with their own sweat – the close-clinch struggle wasn't doing favors on top of that, especially with them both being topless now.

The first strike following what was a good couple minutes of physical inactivity, was a driving knee from Leona to Lien, knocking the latter to her knees briefly. Leona reeled herself back as she prepped a big thrusting boot straight to the face...

…Lien blocked it – with the sharp end of the knife making contact with the rough bottom-heel of Leona's boot. Though it probably had the potential to bite right down onto anything in its way, the knife didn't quite make its way beyond the surface of the boot heel, and Lien didn't bother experimenting quite yet with the knife's sharpness, instead swinging the arm sideways.

Leona reeled her kicking foot back again and set it back down, and this time leapt in with her body fully flying in for an attempted forearm smash. Defense didn't switch over into center stage in her mind until the last moment, as soon as she saw Lien's knife-gripping hand try to stab down at her side.

The Ikari Warrior caught the arm, and dragged Lien back to her feet as she swung her around by the arm, looking for a direction to fling the rival out.

However, Lien took quick notice of the consistent assortment of gym equipment she was being thrown towards, and with a couple of steps, she climbed up the seat of the weight machine ahead…

…hopped off towards her right, onto the control panel of a treadmill...

…and went flying back towards her opponent with her empty-handed arm outstretched, slamming her forearm against Leona's face – only to mild results, as Leona, while staggered, didn't leave her feet. The soldier even managed to recover quicker than Lien, who was half-kneeling before she was caught.

Yet again, Lien was left with one arm locked down, wrapped around her back thanks to Leona, as the knife grazed lightly with its blade's duller back-end.

Lien growled in defiance, "I'm not letting go of this, if that's what you're thinking!"

"I'll make sure you don't have a choice." Leona was tweaking harder the torque of her hammerlock on the blonde's weapon-handling arm.

With a backwards roll, Leona took Lien along for the ride, and climbed onto her hips to hold her down. Lien wrapped her free arm around Leona's back, smacking against it to little budge with the struggling fist to pass the time while forming her plans... When it came to forward-thinking, Leona was a slight more ahead of what her rival had, especially with what Lien was now lacking, including the wrist gauntlet that was dropped not too long before it came to this moment.

Lien continued to sit herself down as a defiant sort of bitch – even now, she wasn't going to let the stoic soldier break any bones. The overpowering, at risk of her arm being bent even further into worse condition, was all she had to go through with in order to get Leona out of her business – how to keep her away for the long-run, she had yet to fully figure out.

Now standing, Lien fought back against the hammerlock with knees to Leona's irritated body wounds, and this targeted effort seemed to be working well enough once the Brit felt Leona's grip loosen slightly with every additional instance that the kneecap made contact with ribs.

Lien threw Leona over her shoulder as soon as the opportunity came knocking for her to start throwing shit around – and while the Ikari Warrior was down, Lien struck her again with a swinging punt in the gut; basically playing soccer with her body, complete with the kick causing Leona to roll a little way's away.

Each time Leona was getting slammed straight into the pavement, it was harder to get back up. By this point, she was starting to spend a decent amount of downtime while Lien stood over her – and the constant targeting on the body cuts were of _no_ fucking help. She was still climbing to her knees, at the least, under her own power...

"Now-now, Leona. Don't slow down on me just yet..." Lien shoved herself further into Leona's personal space just as the latter was getting up, and before long, Leona was eating an elbow to the jaw before getting her ponytail grabbed and yanked under Lien's _firm_ grasp.

As soon as her rival had a handle of blue locks, Leona quickened her pace of fighting back, jabbing against Lien's gut with a few punches before lunging herself closer and trying to tackle her yet again. Lien simply weaved aside, shoving Leona off and letting her scamper back down to the ground under her fatigued feet.

Lien seemed increasingly focused on stalling the sweet release of this agony she was promising herself to put upon Leona...

"I swear... you're starting to seem desperate now..."

The Ikari Warrior couldn't confirm or deny her consideration to 'desperate measures' – she had thrown a couple of dirty tricks in this tournament, if simply to deal with her grudges. Seeing how she was now, it was debatable if she was going to win with mostly squeaky-clean tactics; hell, considering the topless state of both ladies, there was _no way_ things were going to be even 10% clean by the end.

There was at least a bright spot of chance to Leona's current position, gleaming inches away from her sights: the gadgetry, that Lien had to drop in order to semi-strip herself, was out of contact with her... but open for a tossing.

With momentum on her rotation, Leona chucked the piece of gadgetry underhand, and _PWANG!_ When least expected, it came crashing against Lien's nose with all the force that'd make her wish she took a shot from one of those dumbbells instead. As a result, her already roughed-up nose was put further into a bloody, dreadful condition – basically one note beneath being broken – and she was left to a faint grogginess as just a little more of that dark red life force came a-pouring.

The moment she was back to her feet, quicker than expected due to the adrenaline of opportunity, Leona tackled Lien with more success this time, as they went a brief distance together until stopping against a wall. Leona went on a pursuit of body blows, first starting with desperate shoulder thrusts against Lien's stomach.

With all this constant pressuring on the stomach, squishing it in, the average fighter would've eventually lost their lunch. Lien, being far above average as far as we've seen in her tournament showing, wasn't guaranteeing vomit as a possibility on top of blood-spill – while we've yet to know her limit on seeing red, one could imagine, after the ending to her bout against Mignon, that she had seen far enough puke for a day—no, for _the whole damn tournament._

Lien jabbed defiantly against the stab wound on Leona's back, continuing to slam the elbow down until it started getting painted with the gooey red slowly pumping out of her cut.

Leona opted, in turn, to yank Lien away from the wall, and then slam her back in with the countering force of her shoulder – and then continued to do so for several more smashes in a row.

One brief uppercut out of Lien's arsenal _did_ manage to stop Leona from doing any more damage on the spine, briefly staggering her – but the recovery was quick. As Lien charged forward with a spinning back-elbow coming forth for side-skull contact, Leona was right back into on-point defense, catching the arm and wrenching it backwards before crashing Lien back against the wall – now with the added 'benefit' of having one arm crushed between her own back and the hard wall.

The demand for a pained wince burrowed its way out onto Lien's frown without her permission... "Urgh... don't get testy, Leona. You might get blood or sweat out of me, but not tears."

"If you think _I'll_ shed tears first, think again." Leona again smashed a shoulder against her opponent's body. "You aren't going to break me."

Lien chuckled between pained breaths. "You say that, facing me? High fucking doubt, right there."

Leona's angered yet motivated expression held for a long while – she briefly separated from Lien, with a brief slap aside as she backed away, keeping the Brit's right arm wrapped behind her back with an insisting boot pushing against her gut for a lingering moment longer, just to be sure her rival was positioned properly for more punishment.

With a hopping start to her momentum, Leona torpedoed herself straight towards Lien again with the most impactful shoulder-smash of the bunch...

...and just as swiftly bounced back, bent forwards as she stumbled backwards, as the sudden bluntness of head trauma caught her by surprise somehow.

Okay, a little more than _somehow_ , as it turned out.

At one point, Lien had managed to tuck Leona's head under her arm and allowed the opponent to end up crashing her head against the wall – the effects were immediate, as Leona's tight hold loosened up quickly from the unfortunate tingling in her head overwhelming her. Throwing your head against a wall, without slowdown, was not going to be good in the long run...

Lien wriggled her arm to shake off the cramped feeling, before throwing it forward with an elbow smash, turning Leona's head 90 degrees to the right to make her look at the remaining fires in the background of the brawl.

A worrisome look into the fight's future, perhaps? Hard to say...

By this point, as the ratio of her attacks wound down into the wrong direction, Leona was finding it harder to keep up with this UK export from deep in Southtown's slums. Especially after taking one head bump too many, it seemed like Leona was out of it, as mindless haymaker was caught into Lien's hand and crunched under her fingers. Leona gritted against it with a combination of anger and pain on her face, long having cracked away from stoicism to assure an end to Lien Neville's dominance...

The problem was, that it was a highly debatable possibility when Lien was on the high ground momentum-wise, twirling herself behind Leona and shoving her aside with another sharp elbow that this time clocked the soldier in the back of a head...

…Yet she couldn't bear to let her target get away too soon, as she quickly got a hold of that ponytail, recklessly pulled Leona by it – nearly to the point of tearing away the thin strip that held it in place – and wrapped herself against the neck of the soldier with a choking sleeper hold.

"You don't have to resist anymore, love. It's going to be over soon..."

Leona was giving up gradually on words with all the battering she tanked from Lien's arsenal. She would prefer beating her opinions into her opponent by any means necessary. Her right arm swung back half-blindly with an elbow trying for Lien's right temple, but it was ducked – and that arm wound up trapped around her back, in an unfortunate change of events from her rival's previous predicament.

"The fuck did I just say, soldier?" Lien was none too pleased with the continued defiance against her control over the battle. "I thought you'd know better, considering who raised you... who trained you... trained _with_ you..."

"You leave them out of this..."

Lien wrenched harder with both arms, painfully tweaking Leona's trapped arm along with putting extra pressure. "I'm not leaving _anyone_ behind in my wrath, Leona."

Leona was then swiftly slammed down onto the readied knee of Lien, her spine bending . The blue-haired soldier, however, had at least a free hand left to retaliate, trying to gouge against one of Lien's eyes – but it was defused...

"Not a damn chance..." Lien criss-crossed Leona's arms behind her back and started to lift her off the ground with adrenaline built within her vendetta.

Leona again met the blunt end of Lien's knee, being dropped on her gut and then let her fall the rest of the way to the ground and writhe over the pain brought to her scratched body again.

Just barely being granted the permission to glance up to her opponent, Leona caught the sight of Lien swinging her leg up high in a crescent motion going down, and dropping her heel with all the force she could bring upon. It may have dropped just short of her head, but from what the Ikari Warrior wound up realizing too late, that was not the intended target.

Originating from beneath Lien's smashing heel, a blasting geyser of energy erupted beneath Leona, launching her upwards, a higher distance than expected compared to a more realistic way of getting airtime in your opponent's body.

Leona eventually found a landing atop a surprisingly sturdy shoulder, back onto a carrying arm of Lien.

Somehow, the concrete would've been preferable...

Lifting upon her shoulder, Lien gave herself a running start as she darted straight for the nearest available weight machine to use for means far more brutal than designed.

With a seismic forward-toss, Leona was thrown with extra momentum put from the starting charge, and she hit one of the vertical bars going up on the machine! Unfortunately she was unable to bring her hands up to block the impact, so she instead ended up meeting with the machine with full skull contact.

Didn't help that her landing was far from clean, with her nearly landing on the side of one of her ankles as she staggered back into the all-too-familiar half-kneel – just seconds before Lien grabbed her by the temples and flung her against the thin but strong metal with even _harder_ force!

The thud of the flesh hitting metal was one you wouldn't want to behold, at the detriment of who was making _too much contact._ From the first smack against that shiny railing( _soon to be spotted with 'dirtiness'_ ), Leona was smashed across the face inside and out with negative electricity circling her mind – she was damn near concussed at this point, and it was a shocker she wasn't the full ten miles into that sort of injury, considering all she took, leading up to this.

Without any more than a couple seconds pause as she checked to see if further blood was drawing – _to her disappointment, not quite yet_ – Lien pulled the soldier away for a short breath, and _once again_ immediately swung her against the now barely-dented sidebar of the machine.

And again.

And again.

Again.

 **Again.**

 **AGAIN.**

 _ **IT WASN'T STOPPING.**_

…

Correction: there _was_ a stop. _Fortunately._

A stoppage a moment or two later than Leona would've wanted given the end result.

Which was of the side of the victimized weight machine being given such a raspberry-red splatter that it could be used as a Rorschach test... if it was arranged by a _psychopath_.

All Leona could do as her face sat against the dirtied weight machine, the center of her head split open from the potential skull fracture she had received, was catch her breath. Her ears were ringing now, and she could barely even see the bloodied metal bar right in front of her without it being foggy.

Aside from that, it was simply serenity, but only for a little bit.

The relief would be gone before long, as Lien again got a grasp and pulled on the tail of her hair, forcing her head up towards the ceiling. Even through the blurred vision, Leona could still make out the sinister essence of the woman who had beaten what was now _most_ of the life out of her body.

"Look at me, Leona..."

Leona had a brief struggle, trying to scamper past the weight machine, but Lien only pulled harder on the hair, her other hand now wrapping around one side of the soldier's face.

"Leona Heidern, I want you to look at me; one last time before I finally put an end to this..."

"Urk—!" Leona grimaced in pain as Lien jabbed a finger in to the pooling blood on her forehead

Her finger being the paintbrush to a little disasterpiece upon her face, Lien brushed the dark red fluid across both ends of her face, two thin lines like eye black on a sports player. She knew there was very little her opponent could do ( _unless a miracle were to happen_ ) while she took _all_ her sweet-ass time...

"Whoever comes my way next, they'll see _this,_ and remember what I did to you." Lien gestured to the bloody war paint applied right below her eyes, that was nearly starting to mix with the drying blood that poured from her nose.

Afterwards, she wrapped her arms at forearm-length around Leona's neck and forehead, with intent to send her opponent into a slow but 'sweet' slumber – much like a previous victim in King way back in the first round. That first round seemed like a much more simple, less _gruesome_ time compared to now.

The increasingly bloodied face of Leona showed desperate grit, attempting to grasp the objects in front of her – but Lien continued to drag her out of reach, slowly trying to make her way into the center of the room where there was very little for the sleeper recipient to cling onto.

Lien sounded just a slight more serene, seeking victory at the endgame of this... "Enough of this resisting... Just let it happen—" _**THWACK!**_

Lien felt the sudden pain wrap under the bottom half of her mouth, and a new taste of iron as she reeled backwards. She was simply _jaw-jacked_ , as Leona put the last of her strength into thrusting herself upwards, smashing her head upwards.

Potentially a tooth or two lost, a tongue nearly bitten in half, among plenty more possible little injuries from that uppercutting headbutt, as another part of Lien started to draw blood.

Before she could fully retaliate with what she was hoping to be a finishing blow against the Ikari Warrior, Lien had one moment and one moment only to see a brief dot flying up around her direction.

The earring. _Of course she had one fucking left,_ Lien realized internally.

A spotlight was not checked – Lien knew too late what was coming between her and that fucking earring—

 _ **BOOM!**_

Total whiteness flushed down Lien's sights – she couldn't see, but she could definitely _feel_ herself flying backwards, and from the slight increase in heat from where she landed, she would be unsurprised for her sight to come back and for her to be closer to the flames of the gym room's collateral damage.

When her sight faded out from the white...

…disregard... it seemed as though only _one_ of her eyes was regaining sight.

The other eye, her left specifically, could only make out blackness with a tint of red. She rubbed at the left side of her face with the coinciding hand, and immediately felt the burning irritation that was introduced to her skin.

When she winced and retracted the hand, she saw an unhealthy leakage of blood poured onto her palm.

With all that was personally gathered, she could more than confirm that the explosion had not only left her half-blind – something she hoped wasn't permanent – but that the better part of that left side of her face had approached levels of a second-degree burn. Epidermis _and_ dermis suffered in the combustion, and her natural good looks were farther gone than before.

Not good at all.

" _Fuck..._ " God knows how much time it could take for Lien to recover from these burning wounds, let alone the brunt of the damage brought upon her eye. The rest of her body wasn't too much better, especially within the range of that combustible jewelry thrown right in her face, and she could only start in a crawl before she could manage even the slightest strength to climb back to her feet, let alone her knees...

What a cruel 180 that was taken upon her, and as she stared out at Leona – who too was on the ground recovering above the pooling blood spilling from her head wounds – Lien almost refused her possible equal standing with the Ikari Warrior.

"No... I'm not letting this be how I fall..." The blonde had been willing to put an end to things for far too long.

Lien took a glance with her only available eye, towards the left at the heated aura – the silently roaring embers glowing orange not so distant from where she laid. A few partially demolished weight machines and a bit of the room itself, with its crumbled foundation and loose planks and other wood assortments from the wall and etc. blown away at the first few moments.

She plucked one of those busted planks, which was given an offering light at the opposite end of where she wielded it – with the orange fire carried at the edge, causing discoloration into blackness at the tip.

Though with a limp, Lien still managed to power herself towards the opposition, who still barely moved from where she laid.

"I don't care if all I get from this tournament is a load-of-shit concept called 'bragging rights'... I'll be climbing out of my hell, before you get out of yours..." Lien's torch held out just a slight closer...

Leona's body continued to struggle with the concept of standing back up, even as she vaguely felt the warmth approaching her. Her face seemed even further buried against the ground, to the point where the floor gathered a wider pool of blood than what remained on her head after _SO MUCH PUNISHMENT_...

"One more thing, Leona," Lien spoke up again... "While you're laying there – battered, bloodied and likely unaware of where your head is now – after all you've been through... are there any tears left in there to shed?"

She looked ready to prod the flame against the Ikari Warrior once or twice if needed, to check _just_ how close she was to the limit...

…but a harsh _clunk_ wafted past Lien's ears as Leona suddenly curved a leg backwards and kicked away the burning 2x4.

"Tch... have it your way~" The moment knocked aside, Lien almost immediately went into combat over the near-fallen foe, attempting to cling onto her opponent and put an end to things, preferably closer to the flames...

...only to find a sudden pain in the pit of her stomach only seconds later, catching her quicker than she could see – as Leona was now suddenly back to her feet. One arm was snug around Lien's body to hold too close, and the other was familiarly burrowed against her bare, targeted stomach.

This was the moment where Lien found herself losing the self-decided title of 'executioner' in the endgame of the fight – the moment the fizzling, burning of the Rebel Spark was the moment Lien's dominance peaked and took a freefall; at the least, as far as common combat knowledge was settled in the world that hosted the _King of Fighters_ , it was nigh-impossible to truly escape something like this.

Didn't stop Lien from trying – as she put pressure against the explosively-charged fist, trying to pry it away. The heat of Leona's strength matched that of the sensation that continued to linger on the burned half of Lien's face, and the sweat raining down her face didn't help with those burns, simply irritating it further and prompting a resurgence of bloodfall.

"Urgh..." Lien refused to believe she was going down like this, like many of the rest not only earlier in the tournament, but throughout her Ikari soldier opponent's fighting career. All the years of training and less desirable memories didn't pile up for her to receive such a flaccid outcome.

There was one thing she wasn't counting on – the hidden influences that the soldier controlled. The blue turned red in Leona's hair was in itself a red flag

The matching red in Leona's eyes, handling that cursed power as much as she allowed herself to, only further bolstered her strength – and the fact that things were finally ending for this long and brutal bout.

"To hell with you..." Lien gritted, only slightly approaching the possibility that she was done.

Leona responded, with subtle fury... "No. To hell with _you._ "

 _ **BWOOSH!**_ The biggest explosion of the match commenced then and there, forcing separation between the opponents; one stayed where she stood, bracing the burning aura of the spark, while the other...

...well...

From the looks of the resulting damage that was only visible once the dust cleared, the double-doors of the gym were now smashed off their hinges, on the ground – and Lien laying over the destroyed scenery, a new crispy burn spot on her body where the sparks flew to complement the tarnished beauty marked onto her face. Unlike previous instances in the tournament we've seen of Leona's finale moves, it seemed like this time, there was an extra burst of energy, motivated by how sick of Lien's shit she was, and the results were clear...

To a little more of a cost this time – not so much her sanity, but more her body. The adrenaline of the move was gone merely a moment after she unleashed that last burst of energy, and on top of the bloody mess she became and the accumulated injures?

It was to no surprise that Leona nearly lost consciousness herself, collapsing to her hand and knees, staring at nothing but concrete and blood drops.

A winner was clear here, and it was with relief that it didn't boil over into a tragedy…

 **WINNER: Leona**

* * *

As she witnessed the Lien vs. Leona bout from start to finish, live through the convenient TV in the room she was slotted to stay in for now..

Athena grew to realize how high the stakes could possibly go as the tournament burrowed deeper into the later rounds. It wasn't about simply bragging rights anymore – it was about dropping blood and beating enough life, and dignity, out of your opponent until they just couldn't continue. After the first round, those themes of violence and humiliation started to escalate.

It would be easy for someone like Athena to start questioning if they didn't, " _What the fuck did I get myself into?_ ", after that affair.

Though it was for the best that she had to be in the know of who came out on top in the latest bout of this increasingly intense tournament, a part of her would've felt better off mentally not having to see the violent possibilities, especially between that rivalry of fighters known to have hands trained to kill if necessary.

The Psycho Soldier was now feeling she'd have to rely on luck to have a clean fight at this stage of the tourney. If anything, she only found relief that the right lady won in the last battle – whatever punishment the Psycho Soldier herself was going to endure at the hands of hostess Elisabeth was going to feel like a slap on the wrist in comparison.

Speaking of, Elisabeth seemed to be away for a fairly decent amount of time – more than you'd think that mending a headache would do, on top of temporarily handing duties off to the second-in-command.

At the same time, Athena wouldn't be surprised with how drastic that 'headache' must've felt like, considering the other end of the altercation that indirectly landed Athena in hot water.

Mignon, on the other hand, spent the whole time shriveled against one of the corners of the bed, arms wrapped around legs and knees covering her face. Plenty o' shame, she must've felt, for the cracks she must've received on her ego – especially now that she was aware of who was the superior between her and Betty.

Athena's eyes read of concern – something she didn't think she was going to feel so much for someone who quite literally started biting her a while before.

"Mignon... Are you... are you okay?"

…

Suddenly, Mignon's body uncoiled from her fetal position, and she slammed her hands down in front of where Athena sat.

" _I'm sorry, alright?!_ "

The shouting sounded close to that of a woman frustrated and angry, but there was a clear indicator to the feelings deep inside – _and_ outside – of Mignon's body; the tears pooling down from her eyelids. It looked as though she had been crying (albeit silently) for a little while leading up to now.

"I'll admit it, just this once, I'll hold responsibility – for what I am, what I've become this week, and what's going to happen to me when Lady Blanctorche comes back!" Any semblance of her narcissist third-person way of speaking was gone, as was her annoying type of charisma. "Is that what you wanted, Asamiya?! _IS IT?!_ "

Athena didn't have anything to say for a little while, as she had to let through her mind the frustrated but defeated proclamations of her 'rival'. Mignon, on the other hand, had to momentarily go silent herself just in case those proclamations created yet another mistake...

After that little moment of speechlessness, Athena admitted with honesty...

"Mignon, I... I don't even know how to deal with you anymore. Minutes ago, you were owning up to your way of thinking, and you're only _now_ realizing you're in the wrong?"

Mignon's arms shriveled inwards against her body as she meekly grasped admittance. "...it takes some time to think, to really know your mistakes. Sometimes you don't realize it until it's too late..."

"...You're not implying you were actually thinking before Elisabeth yelled at you, were you?" Athena wasn't simply going to forgive just because of this one time Mignon may have learned a lesson. "Mignon, you—you still had _plenty_ of time before _and_ during that match, and you _still_ chose to jump in – why on Earth did you think that was a good idea!?"

Mignon's volume toned down significantly as she tried to fumble back thoughts. "I dunno, heat of the moment? Urgh... this is so frustrating...!" She was starting to bop herself in the head over her idiocy.

"Don't get me started on that comment about Alice."

"Oh god..." Mignon's hands found a home upon her face, regret building further, as Athena continued to discuss.

"Even with a broken ankle, she was still stepping up to save a friend – a friend who was basically getting _raped._ You can't just _overlook_ that and say 'she didn't know any better' – why the hell even would you?"

" _Because I'm a fucking idiot!_ "

Athena had to _physically_ lean back a bit – not just from Mignon leaning forward and shouting in her face how she _really_ felt about herself, but because _both_ Athena and Mignon knew that the witch seemed like the type of person to hold back from harsh language. Let alone just straight up shouting ' _fuck_ '.

Athena only figured as much because the type of lifestyle Mignon seemed to want was around the same kind of wholesomeness as her own with her idol career.

It took a certain level of emotion to consider that 'all bets are off' as long as you said what you wanted to say.

Mignon grew depressingly silent after that precise moment of admittance, quivering lips and eyes glossed with remnants of tears. There was no more left to admit – all that was left were the waterworks. She dropped her face against Athena's body, muffling her cries as she clung on tight to the Psycho Soldier's person.

Athena was at a loss for words – for what she knew, she may have only helped in _breaking_ Mignon emotionally, alongside. She didn't mean to, _at all,_ yet she couldn't say the same just yet for Elisabeth, given the amount of punches the hostess pulled in telling Mignon off were _zero_ , and from beyond that, she probably didn't mind having to crack into the human psyche a couple of times if it meant maintaining order in this tournament.

If the idol wanted to know for sure how much Elisabeth cared about Mignon's feelings, she wouldn't have to wait long, as the door started to open again – someone was on their way own

No... _two_ were on their way in – the upholder of the Blanctorche legacy, and someone else...

"Apologies if I took a little longer than usual. I had to be sure Iroha was able to walk under her own strength..."

Elisabeth was intriguingly accompanied by Iroha, who was walking with a little bit of a hobble in her step after the collateral damage Mignon left in that controversial step-in earlier today. It was kind of weird was just off to 'mend her headache'—though on second thought, considering Iroha, one wouldn't want to think too hard on it unless they _wanted_ some interesting thoughts...

Mignon approached first, quickly trying to wipe away the tears, and in turn, some of the patheticness she felt she had looking like that. "H-have you... made your decision now... m-milady?"

Mignon reluctantly bowed to a single knee before Elisabeth – but she was insisted against it quickly by the noblewoman.

"Mignon, please. Not right now." At Elisabeth's demand, Mignon returned to her two feet.

"I mean... in a way, we _are_ still waiting on your words..." Athena brought her hands down and close together, holding back her own attempts to bow when not necessary. "Trying not to disrespect you – especially in front of those who work for you."

"It's not just on a respect standpoint that you're here, Athena," said Elisabeth. "As far as we know, one of you dug yourself deeper than the other... but I'm a woman who understands how to look at separate ends of a conflict equally."

"And Iroha?" Athena was the first of the two girls in the hot seat to acknowledge the maid's presence. "How does _she_ fit into this?"

Elisabeth casually answered, "In the case that you'll have difficulty enduring the punishment – scars physical or emotional."

Mignon stood by with a slight more concern on her face, feeling as though this 'punishment' might actually warrant medical attention of some sort.

" _Scars_?" Athena seemed increasingly uncertain after what Elisabeth had said, especially as she saw the noblewoman brandish her riding crop a _little_ too tightly for it just to be a prop. "Do you mean what we might be thinking you mean, or...?"

The riding crop curved in Elisabeth's hands. "Ten lashes." The crop then made a loud _snap_ as it straightened out. " _Each._ "

The pieces clicked completely to the severity of the punishment... Mignon was already starting to panic internally over the possible scars on her dignity, and her regret was ready to double – if not triple – over her intrusion on that qualifier match, and her helping hand to the sibling, if it meant getting struck for ten by that whipping crop.

Athena, while considering that she was clearly more of a helping hand to the situation than Mignon 'attempted' to be, she still realized soon after she was gonna have to accept the punishment.

Intending to diffuse the tension beyond the punishment, Iroha bowed calmly before the girls. "Please understand – it's for your own good."

Elisabeth added, with one _slightly suggestive_ suggestion. "If you're willing to get through this in an orderly fashion... I suggest you two lay on the bed..."

Mignon visibly gulped, while Athena silently sighed in a reluctant acceptance to what's to come.

The suspense upon the decision was done with; soon, it was going to be time to endure.

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** **Athena and Mignon take part in the punishment (they should be glad they won't endure nearly as much as Lien and Leona have) – and the next two competitors in line for the third round prepare for the next fight.**


	50. INTERLUDE: The Punishment Hour

"Elisabeth, if I may..."

Athena looked to be the one to step up first for her ten lashes.

"For the sake of admitting fault... I think I should go first."

Elisabeth's eyebrows curved upwards as she kept her crop clutched, starting to wear an expression of growing intrigue. "I'm not surprised – you're simply the lesser of two faults, if I may admit."

"It's for the best, really." Athena's eyes lingered towards the still-nervous witch beside her; Mignon's increment of sweat didn't exactly slow, even when knowing she wasn't going first.

"I see... " Elisabeth brandished the riding crop with whipping intent – she easily understood the heart Athena was willing to put forward. "Then, Athena... if you could, bare your back."

"Pardon, ma'am?"

Elisabeth elaborated, as extensively as you'd expect. "If you were to be lashed as you are right now, it's unlikely any lasting marks would be made on your clothing. If people around this place are to see that you've made a mistake before the end of this whole tournament, you _have_ to have at least some semblance of a scar..."

Somehow, that made Athena start to regret being the first in line for the lashes. The Blanctorche family must not have fooled around when it came to the 'bad eggs'.

On the other end, Mignon even silently whimpered from where she sat, at the back end of the bed watching, knowing _she_ had to go through that as well. Just witnessing it was more than enough to strike fear, and if anything, the fact that the inevitable was prolonged a slight extra for her, made things just that little more worse.

"I'm not asking you to take any clothes fully _off,_ by the way," noted Elisabeth, making things clear with her orders. "Just for you to lift your shirt enough. I'm going to need a canvas to lay this punishment."

Didn't completely help Athena escape from the uncomfortable tension, but she felt she still had to comply, just so things didn't worsen... Her hands lingered for a moment at the bottom of her school-uniform shirt before they grabbed on and slowly pulled. She turned towards the bed as she pulled the shirt up higher and higher off of her bod, stopping as the clothing sat at shoulder level. The only article of clothing she wasn't handling on her upper body was her bra, which the idol hoped wouldn't get in the way too much...

Athena gave in to the idea that she was going to get hurt for her justified misdeeds, and as she bent herself over the edge of the bed and prepared to endure, she was set to face the hard end of the crop like a woman should.

Mignon almost didn't want to look for the sake of this relatively private matter – but she felt subtly demanded to without any visual or audible cues from the hostess, who stared down at the almost bare back of the Psycho Soldier off on the other side of the bed.

Iroha could tell that the thoughts running through her superior's head were more than a handful, and very much mixed, just from the slight uncertainty in the eyes. "Is this going to hurt you too, madam?"

Elisabeth closed her eyes and took a silent breath in and out, remaining calm with her inner spirit as she looked on towards the prone, readied young lady awaiting what was to come.

...Elisabeth eventually answered. "Only a tiny bit... Business is business, even in punishment..."

She took one more step closer, and calmly raised the crop...

 _ **Thwip!**_ One.

Athena's body flinched sideways as the crop made the _hardest_ possible contact on her back.

That was all the confirmation the Psycho Soldier was able to gather, that the noble Blanctorche was holding nothing back.

 _ **Thwap!**_ Two.

Athena's lower body curved against the bottom half of the bed, just a little bit, as she started to take a grasp of the bed.

 _ **Thwip!**_ Three.

No one strike from the riding crop was too different from the last, or even the next, but the pain was unfortunately the exact same each time – a dull pain that was probably going to bother Athena for a while, even in her upcoming match

 _ **Thwup!**_ Four.

Despite not being directly struck, Mignon too felt the pain that bounced upon Athena's reddening back.

 _ **Thwap!**_ Five.

Something about the proper punishment delivered gave out a short radius of shared pain – Mignon was gradually curling up in the corner, and Iroha watched with her own personal feeling of unease.

 _ **Thwump!**_ Six.

With this one, Athena felt the back hook of her bra possibly loosening – the crop may have hit a little too close to the undergarment.

 _ **Thwip!**_ Seven.

Regardless, she wasn't moving many muscles against the 'terror' of the skin-rippling whip – unless something drastic happened.

 _ **Thwap!**_ Eight.

"Aah~!"

And then something drastic may have happened.

 _That_ was the point where the bra split at the back, and Athena grasped against the front of herself to try and hold everything in place, while at the same time making sure the skin of her back – which was now showing selective redness at the points of which it was struck – stayed exposed for the last two lashes.

Elisabeth shielded the potentially shameful thoughts in her head and upon her expression as she saw the idol having a little bit of a struggle.

 ** _Thwip-thwop!_ **

Nine and ten. The final lashes across the back bounced left to right and vice versa in the row.

There was a quicker stinging feeling from them compared to the first eight, almost as though Elisabeth had to hurry her pace just a slight, while Athena was holding onto her threatened dignity by a couple threads.

It didn't matter much about it being a private situation, as Athena carried that sort of PTSD-esque panic, knowing all too well the struggle of a wardrobe malfunction.

"Careful with yourself, Athena," Elisabeth soon advised. "If you need a moment to adjust, that's quite fine.

Seeing Mignon right in front of her, after a moment like that, resulted in reopened memories for Athena.

"Not a word." Memories she'd be better off repressing. She already had enough of Mignon's possible bullshit, even at the point where that witch may have learned her lesson at the hands – and riding crop – of the sole remaining Blanctorche.

Mignon stared back with an awkward glint flowing in her eyes beneath the slight tears remaining. In her thoughts, it was less a matter of _herself_ keeping peace with privacy – much more about the _whole room_ considering that no one seemed fully willing.

Another thing that came through her mind...

"Mignon, she can handle things herself. Please come forth..."

She was up next.

The pink witch's panic was desperately trying to break through the outer shell as she saw Elisabeth gesture with the whipping apparatus.

Mignon looked back at her 'partner in penalty' – Athena was now leaning on the side of the bed, shifting a little bit so that she was resting against the most comfortable area of her back.

For a moment, an awkward and worrisome grimace warped upon Mignon's face.

"Mignon? If you could...?"

The more assuring tone of Iroha as she called out to the witch didn't help matters much. Though it was a better alternative to the French dame dealing out the discipline,

"Miss Iroha... milad—" Mignon stopped herself, her hands awkwardly wriggling against her bosom sheepishly. "...Ms. Blanctorche? I... might need a moment to get this off..."

The outer-layer of Mignon's pseudo-fancy dress was a little more troublesome to deal with than Athena's more simple 'student' attire, just on the involvement of her back coattails alone. The more optimal route was to simply take that layer off.

All of a sudden, without that pink vest number on, Mignon looked slightly less cartoony when it came down to her simple, sleeveless undershirt and her dainty little red bowtie – but she knew the preparations didn't stop there. Much like the other receiver of the lashes before her, she had to show skin in order to have the full effect of it all...

 _GULP._ "Okay... do your worst..." Mignon pretty much threw herself against the edge of the bed, struggling to pull upwards on the frilly undershirt with enough consistently as she bared most of her back to the bearer of the crop.

Elisabeth wound her ready arm back, the same way she did with Athena moments before...

" _Wait._ "

Iroha suddenly reached and grabbed the crop-holding arm of her superior by the wrist – she nearly stumbled over her eternally-weak ankle, the extra bit of weight fumbling against Elisabeth's body and catching her attention just that much more.

As she watched, Athena was caught briefly by surprise at Iroha's interjection – and Mignon partially curved her upper body around in confusion.

Elisabeth's icy stare immediately hit the maid like a road spike to the forehead. "Iroha – why is it that you interject _now?_ "

"This may sound like an odd request, but..." "I believe _I_ should have the distinction to give Mignon her punishment."

For a moment, Elisabeth had a grasp for the right to question her subordinate's request. However, her judgment carried plenty of patience when putting the clues together on the chalkboard within her mind.

"Hmph... there must be clouds of something brewing against Mignon if you want the 'honors' of that. Is this about your lingering injury? Was she the cause of your concern there, intentional or not?"

When given extra time to put it to mind, Elisabeth had a feeling something was brewing in Iroha's mind moments back when they were heading into the room – the crane maid was walking with more of a limp than usual on the consistently-bandaged ankle.

Iroha nodded, admittting. "I couldn't say if it was ' _intentional_ '. She may not have meant harm against most when she did what she did – but trust me when I say that I have a reason to handle her personally."

Elisabeth kept her breath held in the shared space within her mouth and nose, as she focused only on the decisions that mattered. _Certainly an oddity, this one..._

…

...She extended her hand, loosely handling the crop as she ultimately offered it to the willing maid.

"This crop is a prized possession, so treat it well. Not so much with Ms. Beart, however."

"Thank you..." With tiny bits of hesitation lingering in her fingers, Iroha held out towards the riding crop and carefully pried it off of Elisabeth's offering hand.

However... as the sparsely-dressed servant handled the crop and pondered following through with the penance as Elisabeth did with Athena... she looked straight ahead at the bowed-over witch, who sheltered her face fully against the bed-sheets again and muffled her moans of hidden worry.

"Then again... if I am to whip her, it shouldn't be on her back."

"Hmm?" Mignon was back to being confused as she again looked up from a faceful of bedsheets.

Elisabeth raised an eyebrow and turned towards Iroha again. "Pardon?"

The maid wasn't open to explaining in the _exact_ next second, as she first took a few steps forward. She pulled down on the witch's lifted undershirt, setting it back to her waist – where her hand continued to linger...

...before grabbing onto the waistband of Mignon's pants and pulling downwards with intent to expose a certainly _different_ area of skin...!

"Uuu-u-h-h-h-h-h?!" Mignon's body sprung up like a tree as the rough natural air of the room started to come down in the widening opening, of her pants pulled at the rear.

Athena looked baffled herself – things were getting personally uncomfortable for her. At least it was keeping her mind off the dull pain of the bruises on her back - something she was trying to linger around as she adjusted her re-hooked bra.

Lastly, Elisabeth's general strict prudence flourished through in that suddenly springing expression of confused repulse. "Iroha, _for the love of God_ , tell me where this is going!"

"Something out of your comfort level, I imagine," Iroha answered. "Simple lashes on the back may be enough in your eyes, ma'am – but for the worst offender of the two, you can't just hit them on the surface."

The riding crop started to twirl in the hand of the crane maid as she slowly wound her arm. "My master taught me... that it's their dignity that should hurt worse...!"

 _ **THWUMP!**_

"Kheee—!" Mignon squealed with a pained fright as her hands got jittery – she quickly flopped back down against the bed.

The shock and awe in Elisabeth's eyes started to dispate into just general disappointment... "Iroha, I think I'm starting to regret putting you in charge of her punishment..."

"Now-now, Miss Blanctorche," Iroha assured as best as she could. "I know what I'm doing!"

Nine to go.

 _ **Thwap!**_ Make that eight.

Mignon fought _all_ the urges to throw an elbow back and _intentionally_ hurt the maid this time for giving her a little bit more exposure than the pure witch ever wanted.

 _ **Thwump!**_ Seven lashes left.

 _ **Thwamp!**_ Six.

Mignon's butt was feeling all too tender and red under the pressure, even before she was halfway through the punishment. Somewhere in there was a hidden jealousy, feeling as though Athena basically got it easy in comparison, both in where the lashes were placed and how strong they were.

And yes, somehow Iroha managed a stronger handle of the ol' reliable crop than the noblewoman she served. Perhaps it was fueled a bit too much by feelings over that bad ankle?

"Athena!"

Athena flinched slightly to Iroha calling out to her – there was a subtle difference, a slightly _angrier_ tone in the maid's voice than everyone was used to. It looked as though the Psycho Soldier was caught looking away from the scene of the punishment.

"Look this way, Athena," demanded. "I want both of you girls to learn."

As soon as she made clear she wanted the previously-punished to continue to bear witness, Iroha went back into the thick of it, the arm holding the borrowed crop continuing to put an absolute _oomph_ into the swing.

 _ **Thwack!**_ On the fifth lash, Mignon nearly tumbled fully onto the bed – and she had to control herself by clinging as hard as she could to the bed, both the sheets and the cushioning itself. She had an obligation to reluctantly fill with this penalty – even if it hurt her.

 _ **Thwap!**_ Six lashes in, and it was by this point that Elisabeth started to cycle through the levels of depth in her consideration – consideration over whether she should step in or not.

She struggled to admit... "Iroha, I'm... not going to lie, I've never seen you like this before..."

 _ **Thwup!**_

Immediately after the seventh swipe with the crop, Iroha tilted her head again towards the hostess.

"I'm just doing what needs to be done, my lady – if this was more than you expected, my apologies..."

Her arm continued its whipping motion for one more...

 _ **Thwahp!**_...to continue humbling poor Mignon with the increasing soreness incoming.

Elisabeth's composure as a just hostess overseeing the domineering discipline was being tested as she felt no choice but to let the maid continue 'what needed to be done'. She may have lit a fire under the generously-proportioned young lady...

"I don't know if I should be proud of your efforts or not..."

 _ **Thumk!**_

Returning to the other side of things, Mignon was thankful, at least, that it was almost over – even if the mental pain was going to last a little bit longer.

The ripple effect came across onto Athena's psyche as well, though she was mostly just surprised that the otherwise 'innocent' Iroha ( _'innocent' in quotes in due part to, obviously, the costume_ ) was given the opportunity to help lay the law, and lay the law she _god damn did._

 _ **Thwu'd!**_

As soon as the arm curved backwards one more time with that tenth, and to be absolute sure the final lash, Iroha's momentum came to a full stop as soon as she felt the crop being grabbed at the thin end.

"She's gotten her ten – you can stop now." Elisabeth remained calm as she put the maid's efforts to a halt when it was at its most necessary.

She kept the count of the lashes firm in her mind, and she started having a feeling as though her willing maid was not going to know when to stop with the power and determination that was overly exerted into each and every swipe of that crop that she had to take back before it was too late.

The tenth was the close to a pride-cracking chapter – not just for Mignon's rear, but for Iroha as well, the moment that she reached the ten-peat with the crop and was told to stop. As the riding crop returned into the hands of whom it belonged to, the subtle intensity and the intention of 'proper' punishment slowly lightened up and escaped the expression on the servant's face – and she promptly lost her footing upon the ever-injured foot, falling onto her butt as the emotional motivation creeped out of mind in exchange for mental exhaustion.

Iroha's ankle ached like a beartrap crunching in on it – she should _not_ have been up and in work with a condition that lingered like that for a life time, let alone one that was agitated further by collateral damage, but she was still standing strong for the most part.

Physically, at least. Mentally, she was a mixed bag as she had yet to fully figure out if the ramifications of this private moment with the guilty party was going to be worth it for the long-run.

Especially for the one she missed the most.

"Are you proud of me, master?"

Iroha had now started staring up to the ceiling, her eyes attempting to pierce through to see the nice blue sky beyond the roof. " _Are you proud of me...?_ "

All that was overwhelming her thoughts... it was starting to make her shed a tear or two.

Thankfully, Elisabeth had it in her heart to keep her cohort emotionally warm – the noble Frenchwoman slowly agreed to an embrace against the maid, wrapping her arms around Iroha as she allowed a bit of comfort. This embrace allowed her to pick Iroha back up to her feet without putting too much roughness on the bad ankle.

With things now sorted through and the worst of the moment being over and done with, Elisabeth looked ahead to the ladies who will have some marks on their skin and likely other places...

"The worst is over and done with now..."

She turned her head in one direction towards one of the 'punished'. "Athena... you still have a match coming soon – mend your wounds and prepare." Then she turned aside to another direction... "Mignon... just... find a way to be comfortable. Not _here_ , obviously..."

The two vanished behind the double-doors of the room, and it closed with a minimal thud of wood, leaving the freshly punished to themselves for some moments to think.

Mignon was back to leaning against the bed, feeling slightly more uncomfortable than before as she tried not to put too much weight on the aching ass she carried now.

Meanwhile, Athena was standing around the corner to the left of her usually-obnoxious counterpart, a hand resting beyond her neck, pondering something. Her eyes had been left on Iroha for the majority of Mignon's punishment, and she collected a little more information privately.

Athena was perfectly fine, however, knowing the first thing to come to her mind out of this info, was the _very_ first thing to pass through her lips. "I know _you_ probably weren't paying attention on the maid..."

"Hmm?" Mignon was naturally confused. "Why do you say that?"

"I was looking at her as she was whipping you – mind you, she didn't give me much of a choice – and... honestly... it seems like she was working up more of a sweat than you'd think. Almost like it was kinda... taxing on not just her body."

"...Whaaaat are you getting at?"

"...She was whispering about her 'master' after she did it..." Athena left it at that for the 'master' stuff, hoping the witch would take her word for it despite her likely inferior listening skills. "…I don't want _you_ especially to think I sound like a pervert over it but – do you think she was getting... _off,_ on something about it? Maybe there's something she's thinking about that we don't?"

Mignon blinked twice and let her eyebrows narrow down. "...You know what? You're right; you _do_ sound like a pervert over it."

Athena was barely fazed, at least that was what it showed on her face and body language on the exterior.

"Maybe you're right. And you know another thing?"

"...I don't. What...?"

 _ **Smack!**_ And Mignon went down with a pained squeal, her bruised rear agitated with a sneaky slap, courtesy of her 'rival'.

Athena felt a cathartic release from that, and now she felt personally accomplished heading into the next round. She was still, at least, welcoming to forgiveness. "Sorry, Mignon – that's been brewing in my head ever since you bit me."

The idol was successful in keeping her hands out of striking range until Elisabeth was out of sight. Everybody gets _one_ chance to get a one-up on the 'competition', and the Psycho Soldier took it then and there

Angry steam was starting to brew in Mignon's head... "You _jerk_..."

"Listen, I gotta go train now – no hard feelings, okay?" Athena _immediately_ warped out to safety somewhere else.

Now it was back to Mignon and the return of loneliness, as she took yet another 'defeat' in the premises of the tournament – at least this time it didn't end with her vomiting half her life force out.

And yet again, she spotted that blue butterfly making it's way into the room somehow.

And the aggravated witch simply proclaimed, "Now's not the time!"

" _Oh. Sorry._ "

Mignon immediately froze up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice responding. She blinked thrice before slowly putting her glance fully on the butterfly.

"...Did you just talk?"

"...!" Cue the butterfly's wings halting very briefly in surprise before zipping away – as though it flew away in a panic, exiting through a window.

A window that it had to phase through magically as it was already closed.

The only conclusion Mignon could make?

"Yeah. I'm _definitely_ losing my mind."

* * *

As more and more of the ladies met their last road in the tournament, losses pilling up in the last couple rounds, they slowly fell into the background once they knew all they could do was spectate and interact with others who either were fellow eliminations or weren't in the middle of a fight.

Not quite the case for someone like Sylvie Paula Paula. Based on just how she was dressed, she was one to dislike being in the background – though surprisingly she wasn't caught by Chizuru, Elisabeth or any other lady considered 'authority' ever since her loss.

Yeah, she may have had a couple run-ins here and there that, at one point, shoved her into a closet, but she inevitably found freedom – though with a few cleaning props stuck in her wide-reaching hairdo as a result.

"Biri-biri-birrrr _rrrr_..."

She suddenly keeled over, as if she powered down. All these hours of walking did away with the energy of her legs before long... did she even _sleep?_

"Can't move..." All she was left with in her body was her arms – and she had to use them in order to crawl and drag herself further down the turn of the corner coming up.

"Need... recharge..." The electricity flowing through her body, especially within her unsettling eye decorations, was looking a little short on juice – the most she could regularly muster up right now were tiny sparks.

Once she got out of this weird 'maze' of hallways in the expansive mansion, she was going to get that electricity flowing back in her somehow. Unfortunately for others who would want to know ( _even the one writing this story_ ), the only one who knew how to recharge Sylvie was, of course, Sylvie herself.

Even the people who turned her into this oddity with the clown-vomit clothes weren't highly certain of how she ticked – but her repressed memories were staying repressed.

That was when she found her first obstacle coming her way.

Angel. Just the lady Sylvie _didn't_ want to see.

She was _right there_ , a few feet from the turn of the next hall, plopping down some deep squats in her usual – and round-wise, likely successful – pre-match ritual. From the implications of her locale and her exercise, her number has probably just come up for her third-round fight.

It was probably better off that Sylvie tried to sneak her way past the NESTS superior – with how she looked, stealth seemed pretty impossible. Unless she tried to graze by quietly, in this tight hall, without even the slightest of hair grazing by.

For a couple moments, it _almost_ seemed like it was working for Paula Paula by the point where she was halfway past where Angel stood.

She was quickly proven wrong.

" _UMPH!_ "

Sylvie found her face getting pressed against the carpet, and a newfound pressure being pushed down on top to make sure she couldn't lift herself off. The blonde fluffiness of the hair down the back of her head, was now being used as a seat for the leather-jacket vixen.

'Amused' with the reunion, Angel met down on Sylvie with the cheekiest of smiles. "How's it going, Sylvie? Bet all that time you spent in the closet helped you learn your lesson, I hope."

" _Mmmn! Mrrrhmhhn~!_ " Sylvie's head squirmed beneath the discomfort of Angel's butt crushing down on her.

"I wouldn't squirm too hard if I were you," Angel noted. "With the right amount of pressure, these glutes can crush steel. Haven't tried it on someone's face, though..."

" _Nmm-nmm-nmm-nmm!_ ( _No-no-no-no!_ )" Sylvie's limbs even flailed harder. The piss-poor timing with having gone 'low on battery' didn't help her situation...

The fussing about beneath her was only proving to irritate Angel before long – it meant she had to put some more strength down on her hips to crush down on the 'NESTS Reject'. "Okay, you are the _worst_ pillow, Sylvie. You can't stop squirming, now can ya? Maybe if I _put the pressure on ya_ …"

Sylvie again fussed in muffled agony, " _Mmmmnnrrr—!_ " What was left of her 'electric mayhem' crackled semi-helplessly as she tried to put strength through her arms in a pushup-esque upwards struggle.

The struggle proved futile, as Angel's toned body overpowered again and her butt indirectly slammed Sylvie's face back down to Earth.

"Yep. Just as I thought. You got no muscle." brought an elbow against her knee and rested her face and her fist. Already, this tidbit of bullying was growing boring – as the thrill that Angel generally chases after was not exactly there.

She sighed. "What the hell am I gonna do with you...? Can't just put you out of your misery, not in _this_ place..."

…

A new pair of footsteps faintly started to make its way into everyone else's eardrums – for Sylvie, it almost felt like a possible rescue incoming.

"Ohhh?" But for Angel, she simply knew that this had to be her next opponent.

On the cusp of showtime, once again.

"Alright, guess I can leave this garbage be for now... but before I do..."

Angel had her eyes on what looked to be a little trip downstairs at the end of the hallway.

The answer was closer to the leather-jacketed babe than she expected.

…

"Aaah!"

 _Thump-baduhp-bump—! Thumpa-thump-brumph...!_

The brief but shrill yelp of Sylvie, followed instantly by the brutal thudding of the surreal popstar's unsafe tumble down the stairs, was music to the ears for Angel, who dusted off her hands in a job well done.

It was the only way she was going to reasonably deal with the absurdly-clothed blonde without brutally injuring ( _at least MORE brutally than a 'good toss' down the stairs_ ) or damn near personally killing the 'reject'. Treated like garbage, might as well throw her out like garbage.

She put her eyes towards the hall perpendicular to the stairwell. "C'mon, I can hear your crap dragging on the floor from here. You bringin' a 'gift' or somethin'?"

Her ears continued to stand at attention to the barely audible footsteps, instead focusing more on the additional noise that came alongside it.

A faint scratching of something against the carpet.

That something being a pair of swords.

The swords of Shiki – as she somberly forced herself forward towards what would be her opponent.

With the little lacerations sporadic around her body from a morning's worth of combat, she didn't look too much better coming out of the recent bout that brought her officially into the brackets – but she handled her twin katanas with zero reluctance regardless.

"I bring no gifts to you... Only agony."

* * *

 **Next Chapter:** **Two vixens hard to resist – two different personalities, but a similar kind of ruthlessness. Angel vs. Shiki, up next!**


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